Of the Soul’s Complaint, of the Garden, and of the New Song.
Project Gutenberg EPUB edition
Mechthild, of Magdeburg and Bevan, Frances
They follow the Lamb where’er He goes,
To whom it is revealed;
The pure and the undefiled are those,
The ransomed and the sealed.
Thou shalt learn the speech and the music rare,
And thou shalt sing as they,
Not only there in My garden fair,
But here, belovèd, to-day.”
[78]
“O Lord, a faint and a feeble voice
Is mine in this house of clay,
But Thy love hath made my lips rejoice,
And I can sing and say,
‘I am pure, O Lord, for Thou art pure,
Thy love and mine are one;
And my robe is white, for Thine is white,
And brighter than the sun.
Thy mouth and mine can know no moan,
No note of man’s sad mirth,
But the everlasting joy alone,
Unknown to songs of earth;
And for ever fed on that living Tree,
I will sing the song of Thy love with Thee.’”