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CHRISTINA.
11
Remembering thee above my mirth, how oft
Beside the cheerful board that Heaven had blessed,
I ate my bread in heaviness; and then
Had I known where to seek thee, had risen up
And left my food untasted, till I brought
Thee in to share it; to my lips thy name
Rose never, so I feared some bitter word
Might chide it back within my wounded heart,
That shut it in from blame; but then my prayers
Grew dearer to me, for the thought that here,
In this pure Presence only, could I meet thee;
Here only to the Merciful could name thee,
Could love thee, plead for thee without rebuke.
Yes! even in my sleep my quest went on;
Through dreams I ever tracked thee, following hard
Upon thy steps, pursuing thee, and still
Before I reached thee (thus it is in dreams)
Came somewhat sundering us, and I awoke
With tearful eyes, and on my lips half-framed
Some loving word,—recalling so the past,
I thought thou couldst not turn from it away.
Yes! I have loved thee, I, a poor weak woman,
One like to thee, yet holding in my heart—
That else were dry and barren to all good—
One drop of love from out of God's great ocean.
And thinkest thou that we can love each other
As He loves us,—as He that made us loves us?
And say est thou, 'I am cast out from God?'
No! He hath lovèd thee from everlasting.
Therefore with loving-kindness will He draw thee