89. Reverence
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I BOW at Jesu's name, for 'tis the Sign |
Of awful mercy towards a guilty line. |
Of shameful ancestry, in birth defiled, |
And upwards from a child |
Full of unlovely thoughts and rebel aims |
And scorn of judgment-flames, |
How without fear can I behold my Life, |
The Just assailing sin, and death-stain'd in the |
strife? |
And so, albeit His woe is our release, |
Thought of that woe aye dims our earthly peace; |
The Life is hidden in a Fount of Blood! |
And this is tidings good |
For souls, who, pierced that they have caused |
that woe, |
Are fain to share it too: |
But for the many, clinging to their lot |
Of worldly ease and sloth, 'tis written "Touch Me |
not." |
Off Monte Pelegrino.
June 14, 1833 |