((FROM THE FRENCH OF PIERRE CORNEILLE,
CALLED LE GRAND CORNEILLE.))
"O Dieu de vérité pour qui seul je soupire."
O God of truth, for whom alone I sigh,
Knit thou my heart by strong sweet cords to thee:
I tire of hearing; books my patience try.
Untired to thee I cry:
Thyself my all shalt be.
Speak thou alone! — For me nor human lore
Nor human sage shall now expound thy word;
Let creatures hold their peace, and thee adore;
Let voice of man no more,
But only thine, be heard!
Lord, be thou near, and cheer my lonely way,
With thy sweet peace my aching bosom fill;
Scatter my cares and fears; my griefs allay;
And be it mine each day
To love and please thee still.
My God! Thou nearest me; but clouds obscure
Ev'n yet thy perfect radiance, Truth divine!
O for the stainless skies, the splendors pure,
The joys that aye endure,
Where thine own glories shine!
|
| Henry Downton.
|
| Sunday Magazine.
|
