Would you live, one happy moment, lifted between earth and heaven; Feel an atmosphere supernal  all about you gently rise; See the world beneath your feet and walk ‘mid radiant Pleiads seven; And believe an angel walks beside you, from more radiant skies? Read these songs of love with reverence; let no idle glance profane These sublimely simple pages, seek their mystic sense to know; But learn humbly that in convents Love Divine as King doth reign, And, within their deep seclusion, hearts with joy are all aglow. Lovely flower, soul celestial! fifteen years at home you grew; Then you gave your heart to Jesus, fresh with its baptismal dew; And the Sovereign Pontiff blessed this lovely lily, that we know As a nun whose wondrous sweetness, heavenly, angelic ways, Lyric songs of rapturous music, — everything about her — says That an angel passed through Carmel, just a few short years ago.  

 Oh! how I love Thee, Jesus! my soul aspires to Thee — And yet for one day only my simple prayer I pray! Come reign within my heart, smile tenderly on me,  To-day, dear Lord, to-day.  

 But if I dare take thought of what the morrow brings — That fills my fickle heart with dreary, dull dismay; I crave, indeed, my God, trials and sufferings,  But only for to-day!  

 O sweetest Star of heaven! O Virgin, spotless, blest, Shining with Jesus’ light, guiding to Him my way! O Mother! ‘neath thy veil let my tired spirit rest, For this brief passing day!  

 Soon shall I fly afar among the holy choirs, Then shall be mine the joy that never knows decay; And then my lips shall sing, to heaven’s angelic lyres, The eternal, glad To-day!  

 The eve His life of love drew near its end, Thus Jesus spoke: “Whoever loveth Me, And keeps My word as Mine own faithful friend, My Father, then and I his guests will be; Within his heart will make Our dwelling above. Our palace home, true type of heaven above. There, filled with peace, We will that he shall rest, With us, in love.  

 Incarnate Word! Thou Word of God alone! To live of love, ‘tis to abide with Thee. Thou knowest I love Thee, Jesus Christ, my Own! Thy Spirit’s fire of love enkindleth me. By loving Thee, I draw the Father here Down to my heart, to stay with me always. Blest Trinity! Thou art my prisoner dear, Of love, to-day.  

 To live of love, ’tis by Thy life to live, O glorious King, my chosen, sole Delight! Hid in the Host, how often Thou dost give Thyself to those who seek Thy radiant light. Then hid shall be my life, unmarked, unknown, That I may have Thee heart to heart with me; For loving souls desire to be alone, With love, and Thee!  

 To live of love, ’tis not to fix one’s tent  On Tabor’s height and there with Thee remain. ‘Tis to climb Calvary with strength nigh spent, And count Thy heavy cross our truest gain. In heaven, my life a life of joy shall be, The heavy cross shall then be gone for aye. Here upon earth, in suffering with Thee, Love! let me stay.  

 To live of love, ’tis without stint to give, An never count the cost, nor ask reward; So, counting not the cost, I long to live And show my dauntless love for Thee, dear Lord! O Heart Divine, o’erflowing with tenderness, How swift I run, who all to Thee has given! Naught but Thy love I need, my life to bless. That love is heaven!  

 To live of love, it is to know no fear; No memory of past faults can I recall; No imprint of my sins remaineth here; The fire of Love divine effaces all. O sacred flames! O furnace of delight! I sing my safe sweet happiness to prove. In these mild fires I dwell by day, by night. I live of love!  

 To live of love, ’tis in my heart to guard A mighty treasure in a fragile vase. Weak, weak, am I, O well-beloved Lord! Nor have I yet an angel’s perfect grace. But, if I fall each hour that hurries by, Thou com’st to me from Thy bright home above, And, raising me, dost give me strength to cry: I live of love!  

 To live of love it is to sail afar And bring both peace and joy where’er I be. O Pilot blest! love is my guiding star; In every soul I meet, Thyself I see. Safe sail I on, through wind or rain or ice; Love urges me, love conquers every gale. High on my mast behold is my device: “By love I sail!”  

 To live of love, it is when Jesus sleeps To sleep near Him, though stormy waves beat nigh.  Deem not I shall awake Him! On these deeps Peace reigns, like that the Blessed know on high. To Hope, the voyage seems one little day; Faith’s hand shall soon the veil between remove; ‘Tis Charity that swells my sail alway.  I live of love!  

 To live of love, O Master dearest, best! It is to beg Thee light Thy holiest fires  Within the soul of each anointed priest, Till he shall feel the Seraphim’s desires; It is to beg Thee guard Thy Church, O Christ! For this I plead with Thee by night, by day; And give myself, in sacrifice unpriced,  With love alway!  

 To live of love, it is to dry Thy tears, To seek for pardon for each sinful soul, To strive to save all men from doubts and fears, And bring them home to Thy benign control. Comes to my ear sin’s wild and blasphemous roar; So, to efface each day, that burning shame, I cry: “ O Jesus Christ! I Thee adore. I love Thy Name!”  

 To live of love, ’tis Mary’s part to share, To bathe with tears and odorous perfume Thy holy feet, to wipe them with my hair, To kiss them; then still loftier lot assume, — To rise, and by Thy side to take my place, And pour my ointments on Thy holy head. But with no balsams I embalm Thy Face! ’Tis love, instead!  

 “To live of love, — what foolishness she sings!” So cries the world. “Renounce such idle joy! Waste not thy perfumes on such trivial things. In useful arts thy talents now employ!” To love Thee, Jesus! Ah, this loss is gain; For all my perfumes no reward seek I. Quitting the world, I sing in death’s sweet pain: Of love I die!  

 To die of love, O martyrdom most blest! For this I long, this is my heart’s desire; My exile ends; I soon will be at rest. Ye Cherubim, lend, lend to me your lyre! O dart of Seraphim, O flame of love, Consume me wholly; hear my ardent cry! Jesu, make real my dream! Come Holy Dove! Of love I die!  

 To die of love, behold my life’s long hope! God is my one exceeding great reward. He of my wishes forms the end and scope; Him only do I seek; my dearest Lord. With passionate love for Him my heart is riven. O may He quickly come! He draweth nigh! Behold my destiny, behold my heaven, — OF LOVE TO DIE.  

 Dear Jesus! ‘tis Thy Holy Face Is here the start that guides my way; They countenance, so full of grace, Is heaven on earth, for me, to-day. And love finds holy charms for me In Thy sweet eyes with tear-drops wet; Through mine own tears I smile at Thee, And in Thy griefs my pains forget.  How gladly would I live unknown, Thus to console Thy aching heart. Thy veiled beauty, it is shown  To those who live from earth apart. I long to fly to Thee alone!  Thy Face is now my fatherland, — The radiant sunshine of my days, — My realm of love, my sunlit land, Where, all life long, I sing Thy praise; It is the lily of the vale, Whose mystic perfume, freely given, Brings comfort, when I faint and fail, And makes me taste the peace of heaven.  Thy face, in its unearthly grace,  Is like the divinest myrrh to me, That on my heart I gladly place; It is my lyre of melody; My rest — my comfort — is Thy Face.  My only wealth, Lord! is thy Face; I ask naught else than this from Thee; Hid in the secret of that Face, The more I shall resemble Thee! Oh, leave on me some impress faint Of Thy sweet, humble, patient Face, And soon I shall become a saint, And draw men to Thy saving grace.  So, in the secret of Thy Face,  Oh! hide me, hide me, Jesus blest! There let me find its hidden grace, Its holy fires, and, in heaven’s rest, Its rapturous kiss, in Thy embrace!  

 Thou, Jesu! on this day my earthly bonds hast broken. In Mary’s Order old, my soul true goods shall find; And if to-day: “farewell” my quivering lips have spoken To those who loved me best, so dear, so true, so kind, Thou, Lord, wilt be to them far more than I could be; And Thou wilt deign to win some sinful souls through me.  Jesu! on Carmel I shall dwell — Thy love has called Thy child to that oasis fair; There I desire to serve Thee well, To love Thee there, and then to die, There! yes, my Jesu, there!  O Jesu! on this day, Thy love my prayer has granted; Before Thy altar throne hereafter ‘tis my part Calmly to wait for heaven, — all pain to bear undaunted, — And, lifting to the rays of Thy white Host my heart, Within that fire of love all self to burn away, And, like a seraph blest, to serve Thee night and day. Ah, Jesu! ‘twill be mine — to dwell, One day, with Thee on high, in heaven’s bright  mansions fair  There evermore to love Thee well, To love Thee, and no more to die,  There! yes, my Jesu, there!  

 Recall, O Christ! the Father’s glories bright, Recall the splendors of Thy heavenly home, Which Thou didst leave, to come to earth’s dark night, And save poor sinners who in exile roam! Dear Jesus! bending down at Mary’s humble word, In her Thou didst conceal Thy majesty adored.  Now that maternal breast,  Thy second heaven, Thy rest, Remember Thou!  Remember, now, the day of Thy blest birth, How angels, quitting heaven, sang joyously: “To God be power, glory, lasting worth; And peace to men of good-will ever be!” For nineteen hundred years Thy promise Thou hast kept; Thy children in that peace have waked, and worked, and slept. To taste forever here Thy peace, divinely dear, I seek Thee now.  Remember O Thou Babe in swaddling bands! Beside Thy crib I would forever stay. There, with Thine angels, Lord of all the lands! I would remind thee of that happy day. O Jesus! call to mind the shepherds and wise men, Who offered Thee their hearts, as I mine own again; The Babes of Bethlehem see, Who gave their blood for Thee.  Remember Thou!  Remember Thou that Mary’s holy arms Thou didst prefer to any royal throne. Dear little One! she shielded Thee from harm, She fed Thee with her virginal milk alone. Oh, at that feast of love Thy mother gave to Thee, My little Brother, grant that I a guest may be, Thy little sister I. Oh, hear my ardent cry:  Remember Thou!  Remember that Thy childish voice, dear Lord! Called Joseph father, who, at heaven’s decree, Prevailed to snatch Thee from the tyrant’s sword, And sought old Egypt’s far-off coast with Thee. O Word of God! recall what mysteries round Thee woke; Thou didst keep silent, Lord! the while an angel spoke. Thy distant, long exile On banks of ancient Nile, Remember now.  Remember Thou that on my native shore, The stars of gold, the moon of silver bright, Which I contemplate, wondering more and more, Charmed in the East Thine infant eyes at night. That tiny hand of Thine, that stroked Thy Mother’s face, Sustained the world, held all things in their place;  And Thou didst think of me!  Ah! how I think of Thee,  Remember now.  Remember Thou, in solitude most blest, Thou laboredst with Thy hands for daily bread. To live forgotten, — this Thy earnest quest, All human wisdom trampled ‘neath Thy tread, One single word of Thine could charm a listening world; Yet Thou Thy wisdom kept in closest silence furled.  Thou, Who didst all things know, No sign of power wouldst show. Remember Thou!   Remember how, — Stranger and Pilgrim here, — Thou hadst no home, O Thou Eternal Word! Not e’en a pillow for Thy head most dear; Not e’en a shelter, like the flitting bird. O Jesu, come to me! Rest Thou upon my breast. Come, Come! My spirit longs to have Thee for its Guest. Thou well-beloved, adored!  Rest in my heart, dear Lord,  Ever as now!  Remember Thou, the loving tenderness That Thou didst show to children seeking Thee. Like them I would receive Thy kind caress; Like them, Thy blessings, Lord, be granted me. That I in heaven may gain Thy welcome and Thy rest, Here will I practise well all childhood’s virtues best.  “The childlike soul wins heaven.”  This promise Thou hast given, Remember Thou!  Remember Thou that on the fountain’s brink, — A traveller, weary with the journey’s length, — Thou of the sinful tenderly didst think, And for contrition gave her lasting strength. I know Thee well Who asked, of her, the draught, that day. Thou art “the Gift of God,” the Life, the Truth the Way. Thou wilt not pass me by.  I hear Thy tender cry: “Come to Me now!”  “Come unto Me, poor souls with sorrow tost! Your heavy load My hands shall take away; Your griefs and pains shall be forever lost, Within the depths of love I feel for aye.” I thirst, I thirst, O Christ! Nought else I seek, save Thee. Borne down beneath my cross, I cry: “O comfort me!” Be Thy dear love my home! I come! Yes, Lord, I come! Receive me now!  Remember Thou that, though a child of light, Too oft, alas! I have neglected Thee. Take pity on me in life’s dreary night; Oh, pardon all my sin and misery! Make my sad heart rejoice Thy holy will to do; My soul to those delights, hid in Thy gospels, woo!  That I that book of gold  Ever most dear did hold,  Remember Thou!  Remember Thou Thy holy Mother’s power That she possesses o’er Thy Heart divine. Remember, at her prayer, one joyful hour, Thou didst change water to delicious wine. Deign also to transform my works, though poor they be; Oh, make them glorious works, when Mary pleads with Thee.  That I am Mary’s child,  Dear Jesus, meek and mild,  Remember Thou!  Remember that the summits of the hills Thou often didst ascend at set of sun. Ah! how Thy prayer the long, long night-hours fills, Thy chants of praise when weary day is done. Thy prayer I offer now, with ever new delight, Joined to my own poor prayers, my office, day and night. That I, too, near Thy heart, Take in Thy prayer my part, Remember Thou!  Remember that Thine eyes beheld the fields White to the harvest, — harvest of the blest! Thy Heart o’er them Its mystic influence wields; Within that Heart is room for all, and rest. That soon may come for Thee Thy glorious harvest day, I immolate myself, I offer prayers alway. I give my joys, my tears,  For thy good harvesters. Remember Thou!  Recall that feast of angels in delight, That harmony of heaven’s kingly host, The joy of all those choirs of spirits bright, When one is saved, once counted ‘mongst the lost. Oh, how I would augment that joy and glory there! For sinners I will pray with ceaseless, ardent prayer. To win dear souls to heaven, My life and prayers are given. Remember Thou!  Remember that most holy flame of love Thou wouldst enkindle in all hearts alway. To me it came from Thy fair heaven above; Would I could spread its fires by night and day! One feeble spark, dear Lord! — O glorious mystery! — A fire immense can light, if fanned to flame by Thee.  I long, Divinest Star!  To bear Thy flames afar.  Remember Thou!  Remember how the festal board was graced, To feast the penitent returning son! Remember, too, the innocent soul is placed Ever near Thee, O Thou Beloved One! Unto the prodigal no welcome is denied; But, ah! the elder son is always at Thy side.  Father, and Love Divine,  All that Thou hast is mine.  Remember Thou!  Remember how Thou didst disdain earth’s pride, When working miracles with God’s own ease. “Ye who seek human praise! can ye decide To give your faith to mysteries like these? The great works that I do, (so Thou hast said, dear Lord!) My friends shall yet surpass, according to My word.”  How humble Thou wast then,  Among the sons of men.  Remember Thou!  Remember in what rapture of delight The loved apostle rested on Thy Heart. In that deep peace he knew Thy love and might; Thy mysteries thence he drew, — how strong Thou art! Of Thy beloved John I feel no jealousy. I am Thy choice; I, too, behold the mystery.  I, too, upon Thy breast  May have ecstatic rest. Remember Thou!  Recall Thine awful hour of agony When blood and tears bore witness to Thy woe. O pearls of love! O rubies fair to see! Thence virginal blooms of beauty ever grow. An angel, showing Thee what harvest Thou shouldst reap, Gave gladness to Thee, then, even while Thou didst weep. Then truly didst Thou see,  Amongst those lilies, me!  Remember now!  Thy blood, Thy tears, — a fruitful living source, Those mystic flowers, makes virginal evermore; And to them grants a wondrous, holy force, For winning souls to serve Thee and adore.  A virginal heart is mine; yet, Christ, what mystery!  Mother of souls am I, through my chaste bond with Thee.  These virginal flowers that bloom  To bring poor sinners home,  Remember Thou!  Remember Thou, that, steeped in direst woe, Condemned by men, to heaven Thine eyes were raised; And Thou didst cry: ” Soon ye My power shall know. Soon shall ye hear My name by angels praised! “ Yet who believed Thee, then, the Son of God to be,­ Thy glory veiled and hid in our humanity? Fairest of sons of men! My God! I knew Thee then! Remember now!  Remember that Thy dear, divinest Face, Even among Thy friends, was oft unknown. But Thou hast drawn me by its matchless grace; Thou knowest well I claimed it for mine own. I have divined its charms, tho’ wet with human tears. Face of Eternal God! I love Thee all these years. Part of my name Thou art!  Thou dost console my heart. Remember Thou!  Remember Thou that amorous complaint, Escaping from Thy lips on Calvary’s tree: “I thirst!” Oh, how my heart like Thine doth faint. Yes, yes! I share Thy burning thirst with Thee. The more my heart burns bright with Thy great Heart’s chaste fires, The more I thirst for souls, to quench Thy Heart’s desires.  That with such love always I burn, by night, by day,  Remember Thou!  Remember, O my Jesu! Word of life! That Thou hast loved me, dying e’en for me. Oh, let me be with holy folly rife! So would I, also, live and die for Thee! Thou knowest, Lord! my wish, my loving heart’s desire, — To make Thee loved, and then, in martyrdom expire. I long of love to die. O hear my ardent cry. Remember Thou!  Recall that glorious, that victorious hour, When Thou didst say: “Happy indeed is he, Who has not seen My triumph and My power, But, seeing not, has still believed in Me.” In faith’s dim, shadowy night, I love Thee, I adore. Jesu, I wait in peace, till faith’s long night is o’er. That not one wish had I  To see Thee ‘neath this sky,  Remember Thou!  Remember that ascending unto God, Thou wouldst not leave us orphans sad and lone, But didst, a Prisoner still, where we abode, Veil on our altars all Thy pomp, my Own! The shadow of Thy veil is, oh! how pure and bright, Thou Living Bread of faith, heaven’s Food, my heart’s Delight. O mystery of love! My Bread from heaven above, Jesus, ‘tis Thou!  Remember Thou, in spite of insults hurled Against this sacrament of love divine, Thou dost remain in this dull, weary world, And fix Thy dwelling in a heart like mine. O Bread of exiled souls! holy and heavenly Host! No more I live — not I! in Thee my life is lost.  Thy chosen ciborium  Am I. Come, Jesu, come! My Love art Thou.  Thy sanctuary here, dear Lord, am I, That evil men shall never dare molest. Rest in my, heart! Oh, do not pass me by! Thy garden I, each flower an offering blest. But if from me Thou turn, white Lily of the vale! I know too well those flowers would wither and would fail. Ever, Thou Lily rare!  Bloom in my garden fair.  My life art Thou!  Remember that I longed upon this earth, To comfort Thee for sinners’ scorn of Thee. Give me a thousand hearts to praise Thy worth. My Well-Beloved! abide, abide with me! A thousand hearts too few would be for my desire; Give me ThyHeart to set my longing heart on fire. My ardent love for Thee, While swift the moments flee,  Remember Thou!  Remember, Lord! that Thy dear will alone Is my sole wish, my only happiness. I give myself to Thee, to rest, mine Own! With Thee in peace, and know Thy power to bless. And if Thou seems’t to sleep while raging waves beat high,  In peace I still remain, without one anguished cry.  In peace, on Thee, I wait;  But, for th’ Awakening great, Prepare me Thou!  Remember how I often long and sigh For that last day when angels shall proclaim: “Time is no morel The judgment draweth nigh. Rise thou, to face thy judge! He calls thy name.”  Then swiftly shall I fly, past bounds of earth in space, To live at last within the Vision of Thy Face.  That it alone can be My joy eternally, Remember Thou!  

 Beside the tomb wept Magdalen at dawn, — She sought to find the dead and buried Christ; Nothing could fill the void now He was gone, No one to soothe her burning grief sufficed. Not even you, Archangels heaven-assigned! To her could bring content that dreary day. Your buried King, alone, she longed to find, And bear His lifeless body far away.  Beside His tomb she there the last remained, And there again was she before the sun; There, too, to come to her the Saviour deigned, — He would not be, by her, in love outdone. Gently He showed her then His blessed Face, And one word sprang from His deep Heart’s recess: Mary! Hisvoice she knew, she knew its grace; It came with perfect peace her heart to bless.  One day, my God! I, too, like Magdalen, Desired to find Thee, to draw near to Thee; So, over earth’s immense, wide-stretching plain, I sought its Master and its King to see. Then cried I, though I saw the flowers bloom In beauty ‘neath green trees and azure skies: O brilliant Nature! thou art one vast tomb, Unless God’s Face shall greet my longing eyes.”  A heart I need, to soothe me and to bless, — A strong support that can not pass away, — To love me wholly, e’en my feebleness, And never leave me through the night or day. There is not one created thing below, Can love me truly, and can never die. God become man — none else my needs can know; He, He alone, can understand my cry.  Thou comprehendest all I need, dear Lord! To win my heart, from heaven Thou didst come; For me Thy blood didst shed, O King adored! And on our altars makest Thy home. So, if I may not here behold Thy Face, Or catch the heav’nly music of Thy Voice, I still can live, each moment, by Thy grace, And in Thy Sacred Heart I can rejoice.  O Heart of Jesus, wealth of tenderness! My joy Thou art, in Thee I safely hide. Thou, Who my earliest youth didst charm and bless, Till my last evening, oh! with me abide, All that I had, to Thee I wholly gave, To Thee each deep desire of mine is known. Whoso his life shall lose, that life shall save; — Let mine be ever lost in Thine alone!  I know it well, — no righteousness of mine Hath any value in Thy searching eyes; Its every breath my heart must draw from Thine, To make of worth my life’s long sacrifice. Thou hast not found Thine angels without taint; Thy Law amid the thunderbolts was given; And yet, my Jesus! I nor fear nor faint. For me, on Calvary, Thy Heart was riven.  To see Thee in Thy glory face to face, — I know it well, — the soul must pass through fires. Choose I on earth mypurgatorial place, — The flaming love of Thy great Heart’s desires! So shall my exiled soul, to death’s command, Make answer with one cry of perfect love; Then flying straight to heaven its Fatherland, Shall reach with no delay that home above.  

 Exiled afar from heaven, I still, dear Lord, can sing, — I, Thy betrothed, can sing the eternal hymn of love; For, spite of exile comes to me, on dove-like wing, Thy Holy Spirit’s fire of rapture from above.  Beauty supreme! my Love Thou art; Thyself Thou givest all to me. Oh, take my heart, my yearning heart, — Make of my life one act of love to Thee!  Canst Thou my worthlessness efface? In heart like mine canst make Thy home? Yes, love wins love, — O wondrous grace! I love Thee, love Thee! Jesu, come I  Love that enkindleth me,  Pierce and inflame me;  Come, for I cry to Thee!  Come and be mine!  Thy love it urgeth me;  Fain would I ever be Sunken and lost in Thee, Furnace divine! All pain borne for Thee  Changes to joy for me, When my love flies to Thee,  Winged like the dove. Heavenly Completeness,  Infinite Sweetness,  My soul possesseth Thee Here, as above.  Heavenly Completeness,  Infinite sweetness, Naught else art Thou but Love!  

Note. — The swiftly varying metres of this rapturous “Canticle” evidently are meant to indicate the ever increasing ecstasy of the singer; unless, indeed, Soeur Theresa had no explicit intention, but was simply carried on by the force of a quasi-inspiration.

 In wondrous love Thou didst come down from heaven To immolate Thyself, O Christ, for me; So, in my turn, my love to Thee is given, I wish to suffer and to die for Thee.  Thou, Lord, hast spoken this truth benign: “To die for one loved tenderly Of greatest love on earth is sign;” And now, such love is mine, — Such love for Thee!  Abide, abide with me, O Pilgrim blest! Behind the hill fast sinks the dying day. Helped by Thy cross I mount the rocky crest; Oh, come, to guide me on my heavenward way.  To be like Thee is my desire; Thy voice finds echo in my soul. Suffering I crave! Thy words of fire Lift me above earth’s mire,  And sin’s control.  Chanting Thy victories, gloriously sublime, The Seraphim — all heaven — cry to me, That even Thou, to conquer sin and crime, Upon this earth a sufferer needs must be.  For me, upon life’s dreary way, What scorn, what anguish, Thou didst bear Let me grow humble every day, Be least of all, alway, Thy lot to share!  Ah, Christ! Thy great example teaches me Myself to humble, honors to despise. Little and low like Thee I choose to be, Forgetting self, so I may charm Thine eyes.  My peace I find in solitude, Nor ask I more, dear Lord, than this: Be Thou my sole beatitude, — Ever, in Thee, renewed  My joy, my bliss!  Thou, the great God Whom earth and heaven adore, Thou dwellest a prisoner for me night and day; And every hour I hear Thy voice implore: “ I thirst — I thirst — I thirst — for love alway!  I, too, Thy prisoner am I; I, too, cry ever unto Thee Thine own divine and tender cry: “I thirst! Oh, let me die  Of love for Thee!”  For love of Thee I thirst! Fulfil my hope; Augment in me Thine own celestial flame! For love of Thee I thirst! Too scant earth’s scope. The glorious Vision of Thy Face I claim!  My long slow martyrdom of fire Still more and more consumeth me.  Thou art my joy, my one desire. Jesu! may I expire Of love for Thee!  

 To bear my exile now, within this world of tears, The holy tender glance of Christ, my Lord, I need. That glance, surcharged with love, consoles me through the years; His loveliness displays foretaste of heaven indeed. On me my Jesus smiles, when toward Him I aspire — , The trial of my faith then weighs no more on me. That love-glance of my God, that smile of holy fire, Oh, this is heaven for me!  ‘Tis heaven to have the power, great grace from Christ to win For Holy Mother Church, for all my Sisters dear, — For every soul on earth that He may enter in, Enflame our sinful hearts, and grant us joy and cheer. All things my love can gain when, heart to heart, I pray, Alone with Jesus Christ in speechless ecstasy. Beside His altar blest with Him I gladly stay, — Oh, this is heaven for me!  My heaven within the Host safe hid and peaceful, lies, Where Jesus Christ abides, divinest, fairest Fair. From that great fount of love doth endless life arise; There, day and night, my Lord doth hearken to my prayer. When, in Thy perfect love (O moment blest and bright!) Thou comest, Spouse most pure, me to transform in Thee, That union of our hearts, that rapture of delight, — Oh, this is heaven for me!  My heaven it is to feel in me some likeness blest To Him Who made me and my soul hath reconciled; My heaven it is always beneath His eye to rest. To call Him Father dear, and be His loving child. Safe shielded in His arms, no storm my soul can fear; Complete abandonment my only law shall be. To sleep upon His Heart, with His blest Face so near, — Oh, this is heaven for me!  My heaven is God alone, the Trinity Divine, Who dwells within my heart, the Prisoner of my love. There, contemplating Thee, I tell Thee Thou art mine; Thee will I love and serve until we meet above. My heaven it is to smile on Thee whom I adore, E’en when, to try my faith, from me Thou hidest Thee; Calmly on Thee to smile, until Thou smil’st once more, — Oh, this is heaven to me!  

 Though in a foreign land I dwell afar, I taste in dreams the endless joys of heaven. Fain would I fly beyond the farthest star, And see the wonders to the ransomed given! No more the sense of exile weighs on me, When once I dream of that immortal day. To my true fatherland, dear God! I see, For the first time Isoon shall fly away.  Ah! give me, Jesus! wings as white as snow, That unto Thee I soon may take my flight. I long to be where flowers unfading blow; I long to see Thee, O my heart’s Delight! I long to fly to Mary’s mother-arms, — To rest upon that spotless throne of bliss; And, sheltered there from troubles and alarms, For the first time to feel her gentle kiss.  Thy first sweet smile of welcoming delight Soon show, O Jesus! to Thy lowly bride; O’ercome with rapture at that wondrous sight, Within Thy Sacred Heart, ah! let me hide. O happy moment! and O heavenly grace! When I shall hear Thee, Jesus, speak to me; And the full vision of Thy glorious Face For the first time my longing eyes shall see.  Thou knowest well, my only martyrdom Is love, O Heart of Jesus Christ! for Thee; And if my soul craves for its heavenly home, ‘Tis but to love Thee more, eternally. Above, when Thy sweet Face unveiled I view, Measure nor bounds shall to my love be given; Forever my delight shall seem as new As the first timemy spirit entered heaven.  

 O little key! I envy thee, For thou canst ope, at any hour, The Eucharistic prison-house, Where dwells the God of Love and Power. And yet — Oh, tender mystery! — One effort of my faith alone Unlocks the tabernacle door, And hides me there with Christ my Own.  O lampwithin the holy place, Whose mystic lights forever shine! I fain would burn with fires of love As bright, before my God and thine. Yet, miracle of wondrous bliss! Such flames are mine; and, day by day, I can win souls to Jesus Christ, To burn with His pure love for aye.  O consecrated altar-stone! I envy thee with every morn. As once in Bethlehem’s blessed shed, The Eternal Word on thee is born. Yet, gentle Saviour! hear my plea; Enter my heart, O Lord divine! ‘Tis no cold stone I offer Thee, Who dost desire this heart of mine!  O corporalthat angels guard! What envy of thee fills my breast! On thee, as in His swaddling bands, I see my only Treasure rest. Ah Virgin Mother! change my heart Into a corporal pure and fair, Whereon the snow-white Host may rest, And thy meek Lamb find shelter there.  O holy paten!Jesus makes Of Thee His sacramental throne. Ah! if He would abase Himself, To dwell awhile with me alone! Jesus fulfils my longing hope, Nor must I wait until I die; — He comes to me! He lives in me! His ostensoriumam I!  The chalice, too, I fain would be, Where I adore the Blood divine! Yet, at the holy sacrifice, That Precious Blood each day is mine.  More dear to Jesus is my soul, Than chalices of gold could be;  His altar is a Calvary new, Whereon His Blood still flows for me.  Only one little bunch of grapes That gladly disappears for Thee, O Jesus, holy, heavenly Vine! Thou knowest I rejoice to be. Beneath the pressure of the cross, I prove my love for Thee alway; And ask no other joy than this, — To immolate myself each day!  Among the grains of purest wheat, O happy lot! he chooses me. We lose our life for Him, the Christ, ­— What rapturous height of ecstasy! Thy spouse am I, Thy chosen one. My Well-Beloved! come, dwell in me.  Thy beauty wins my heart. Oh, come! Deign to transform me into Thee!  

 Oh, how my heart would spend itself, to bless; It hath such need to prove its tenderness!  And yet what heart can my heart comprehend?  What heart shall always love me without end?  All — all in vain for such return seek I; Jesus alone my soul can satisfy.  Naught else contents or charms me here below; Created things no lasting joy bestow.  My peace, my joy, my love, O Christ!  ’Tis Thou alone! Thou hast sufficed.  Thou didst know how to make a mother’s heart; Tenderest of fathers, Lord! to me Thou art.  My only Love, Jesus, Divinest Word!  More than maternal is Thy heart, dear Lord! Each moment Thou my way dost guard and guide;  I call — at once I find Thee at my side — And if, sometimes Thou hid’st Thy face from me,  Thou com’st Thyself to help me seek for Thee.  Thee, Thee, alone I choose: I am Thy bride. Unto Thy arms I hasten, there to hide. Thee would I love, as little children love; For Thee, like warrior bold, my love I’d prove. Now, like to children, full of joy and glee,  So come I, Lord! to show my love to Thee; Yet, like a warrior bold with high elation,  Rush I to combats in my blest vocation.  Thy Heart is Guardian of our innocence; Not once shall it deceive my confidence. Wholly my hopes are placed in Thee, dear Lord! After long exile, I Thy Face adored In heaven shall see. When clouds the skies o’er­spread. To Thee, my Jesus! I lift up my head; For, in Thy tender glance, these words I see: “O child! I made My radiant heaven for thee.”  I know it well — my burning tears and sighs Are full of charm for Thy benignant eyes.  Strong seraphs form in heaven Thy court divine,  Yet Thou dost seek this poor weak heart of mine. Ah! take my heart! Jesus, ‘tis Thine alone;  All my desires I yield to Thee, my Own!  And all my friends, that are so loved by me, No longer will I love them, save in Thee!  

 O Jesu! O my Love! Each eve I come to fling Before Thy sacred Cross sweet flowers of all the year. By these plucked petals bright, my hands how gladly bring, I long to dry Thine every tear!  To scatter flowers! — that means each sacrifice, My lightest sighs and pains, my heaviest, saddest hours, My hopes, my joys, my prayers, — I will not count the price. Behold my flowers!  With deep, untold delight Thy beauty fills my soul. Would I might light this love in hearts of all who live! For this, my fairest flowers, all things in my control,  How fondly, gladly I would give!  To scatter flowers! — behold my chosen sword For saving sinners’ souls and filling heaven’s bowers. The victory is mine: yes, I disarm Thee, Lord, With these my flowers!  The petals in their flight caress Thy Holy Face; They tell Thee that my heart is Thine, and Thine alone. Thou knowest what these leaves are saying in my place;  On me Thou smilest from Thy throne.  To scatter flowers! — that means, to speak of Thee, — ­ My only pleasure here, where tears fill all the hours; But soon, with angel hosts, my spirit shall be free, To scatter flowers!  

 What from our lot could us entice! ’Tis ours the altar-breads to make For that tremendous sacrifice Where Christ is offered for our sake.  Heaven will be here, on sinful earth, When hid beneath these veils of snow: And God be here, in a new birth, Come down todwell with us below!  No queens are reigning anywhere In joy as great as ours to-day Our very work is love and prayer, And binds our Spouse to us alway.  Earth’s highest honors seem as naught, Beside this service of Heaven’s King; Beside this peace, with blessings fraught That Jesus sends on dove-like wing.  A holy envy fills our hearts For this fair work of our delight: For these small snow-white hosts, whose arts Shall hide the Lamb of God from sight. Yet we His brides, His chosen, are; Our Friend is He, our Spouse is He! And hosts are we, that He, our Star, Transforms to light and ecstasy.  The priest’s high lot is like our own, In this our daily work for God. Transformed by Him, we tread alone The very path that He once trod.  By prayers, by acts of love divine, His brave apostles we must aid; With them our grace we must combine, And fight their battles unafraid.  God, hid beneath these snowy veils, Will hide Him, too, our hearts within. O miracle! our prayer prevails, With Him, for mercy upon sin.  Our joy, our glory, our delight, O Jesus! is this work for Thee. Thy Heaven is these ciboriums bright Our prayers shall fill with souls for Thee.  

 With heavenly armor am I clad to-day; The hand of God has thus invested me. What now from Him could tear my heart away; What henceforth come between my God and me? With Him for Guide, the fight I face serene; Nor furious fire, nor foe, nor death, I fear. My enemies shall know I am a queen, The spouse of God, most high, most dear.  This armor I shall keep while life shall last; Thou, Thou, hast given it Me, my King, my Spouse! My fairest, brightest gems, by naught on earth surpast, Shall be my sacred vows.  My first dear sacrifice, O Poverty, Thou shalt go with me till my dying hour. Detached from all things must the athlete be, If he the race would run, and prove his power  Taste, worldly men! regret, remorse and pain, The bitter fruits of earthly, vain desire; The glorious palms of Poverty I gain, I who to God alone aspire.  “Who would My heavenly Kingdom have from Me, He must use violence,” so Jesus said. Ah well then! Poverty my mighty lance shall be, The helmet for my head.  The pure white Angels’ sister now am I; My vow of Chastity has made me so. Ah, how I hope one day with them to fly! Meanwhile to daily combat must I go. For my great Spouse, of every lord the Lord, Struggle must I, with neither truce nor rest; And Chastity shall be my heavenly sword. To win men’s souls to Jesus’ breast.  O Chastity,my sword invincible! To overcome my foes thou hast sufficed; By thee am I — O joy ineffable! — The Spouse of Jesus Christ.  The proud, proud angel, in the realms of light, Cried out, rebellious: “I will not obey!” But I shall cry, throughout earth’s dreary night,  “With all my heart, I will obey alway!” With holy boldness all my soul is steeled, Against hell’s wild attacks I bravely dart; Obedience is my firm and mighty shield, The buckler on my valiant heart.  O conquering God! no other prize I seek, Than to submit with all my heart to Thee; Of victories th’ obedient man shall speak Through all eternity. If now a soldier’s weapon I can wield, If valiantly like him the foe I face, I also long to sing upon the field, As sang the glorious Virgin of all grace. Thou mak’st the chords to vibrate of Thy lyre. That lyre, O Jesus! is my loving heart; To sing Thy mercies is that heart’s desire. How sweet, how strong, how dear, Thou art.  With radiant smile, Thou Spouse, my heart’s Delight, I go to meet all foes from hell’s dark land; And singing I shall die, upon the field of fight, My weapons in my hand.  

 How many souls on earth there are, Who vainly seek for peace and rest! With me, ‘tis otherwise by far; Joy dwells forever in my breast. No fading blossom is this flower, Of its decay no fear have I; Like fragrant rose in springtime’s bower So fair it is, yet shall not die.  Well nigh too great my gladness is, All things I wish are mine to-day.  How can I help but show my bliss, Who am so light at heart, so gay?  My joy I find in pain and loss, I love the thorns that guard the rose;  With joy I kiss each heavy cross, And smile with every tear that flows.  When clouds the sunny skies o’ercast, And weary grows my heart the while,  My joy it is that joy is past, And gone my Lord’s consoling smile.  My peace is hid in Jesus’ breast, — May His sweet will alone be done!  What fear can mar my perfect rest,