How the Life of Jesus Is the Mirror of the Soul

O LIFE of Jesus Christ!Mirror of Verity!Mine own deformityI see in that clear Light.

Somewhat, methought, I was ;Somewhat, methought, I seemed ;The Self of which I dreamedI gladly did survey.But gazing on that Glass,The light thenceforth that streamedOn my true nature gleamed:—Down in the depths it lay!Needs must I weep and pray;For, far as earth from skies,Seeing from Being lies—Distant as day from night.

And in that Looking-GlassI saw myself indeed,All cruelty and greedI read my nature clear.I saw my faith revealedA halting, doubting creed,A hope, a guess indeed,A vanity, a fear.I saw my love appearCorrupt, contaminate,And, all around me, waitAmazement and affright.

And in that Looking-GlassMy justice I behold ;A waste, a shame untold,Virtue and kindness dead.The innocent condemned,God's honour bought and sold ;The wicked uncontrolled,The good uncomforted—Shame on my sinful head!I held ill-doers dear,And turned away in fearFrom love and truth and right.

And looking in that Glass,My prudence did I viewSenseless and useless too—The folly of the brute.For laws that God had made,No reverence I knew ;I turned away to wooThe world, and world's repute.I tore up reason's root;From man's estate I turned,For bestial life I burned,Yea, worse than beast's my plight!

And looking in that Glass,My temperance I saw,Unreined by any law,Lascivious and unwise.I could not rule my heartTo modesty and awe;Towards evil must I draw—Look licence in the eyes.In false discretion's guise,Reason—to whom I knewMy loyalty was due—I scorned and put to flight.

And looking in that GlassI saw my fortitude:—'Twere folly twice renewedTo say one word of it!Far worse than words can tell,Unfit for aught of good,Infirm and poor, it stood,My frailty infinite!Once more I weeping sit,Lamenting sins unknown,Virtues all falsely shown,Vice crouching out of sight.

O false esteem of self!How couldst thou dare to bring,As offerings to thy King,These worthless works of thine?Thy nature, all deformed,—Ah, what an evil thingTo urge it, tottering,Before that Light Divine!These errors that are mine,Must loose me from their sway ;Disorder must away,Ere God with man unite.

Justice can never giveTo men contaminateThat glorious realm and greatWhere nothing base can grow.So he who will not striveTo enter virtue's gate,Would find the paths too straitWhere heavenly peoples go.Not even Hell belowTo his despair is kind;Nor gladness will he findIn Heaven's radiance bright.

Lord, Thou hast shown me now,In Thy fair holiness,Mine utter nothingness ;Yea, less than nothing I!And from this gazing springsAn eager humbleness;Prisoned in wretchedness,My will but lives to die.My mind's humilityIs not made vile by ill,But, loving virtue still,Through vileness, gains Thy height.

I cannot be re-bornTill mine own self be dead ;My life out-poured, out-shed,Sheer essence to renew:On glorious NothingnessHe only can be fed,Whom God Himself hath led ;—Here man hath naught to do.O glorious state and true!In Nothingness to cease,Desire and mind at peaceIn calmness infinite.

Ah! how my earth-bound thoughtsAre hideous and mean,Beside those heights serene,Where virtue's treasures be.That Deep whereon I gaze,I cannot swim therein,I must be swallowed clean,Like men who drown at sea.Shoreless Infinity!I sink in Thee, the Whole ;Thy fullness storms my soul,Thou Sweetness and Thou Light!