November 2010
1 post
Is there no balm in Gilead?
“For hadst Thou passionless Spent easy days, O Christ, known only joy’s dear kiss, Walked on safe sandalled feet In meadowlands — Ah, who that ever ran Naked across the plain, Scourged by the vehement, bitter rain, But turning to Thee desperate, would miss Something in Thee, yea, vital things ? Tears were Thy meat, A spear-stab Thy caress, Thou suffering Son of Man.”
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