the diary of an old soul(一颗衰老灵魂的日记)-第11节
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triumphant uttermost of gift； That cannot be till I am full of light To
perfect deed a perfect will must lift： Inspire； possess； compel me； first of
every might。
16。
I do not wonder men can ill believe Who make poor claims upon thee；
perfect Lord； Then most I trust when most I would receive。 I wonder not
that such do pray and grieve The God they think； to be God is not fit。
Then only in thy glory I seem to sit； When my heart claims from thine an
infinite accord。
17。
More life I need ere I myself can be。 Sometimes； when the eternal tide
ebbs low； A moment weary of my life I grow Weary of my existence' self；
I mean； Not of its plodding； not its wind and snow Then to thy knee
trusting I turn； and lean： Thou will'st I live； and I do will with thee。
18。
Dost thou mean sometimes that we should forget thee； Dropping the
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veil of things 'twixt thee and us？ Ah； not that we should lose thee and
regret thee！ But that； we turning from our windows thus； The frost…fixed
God should vanish from the pane； Sun…melted； and a moment； Father； let
thee Look like thyself straight into heart and brain。
19。
For sometimes when I am busy among men； With heart and brain an
open thoroughfare For faces； words； and thoughts other than mine； And a
pause comes at lengthoh； sudden then； Back throbs the tide with rush
exultant rare； And for a gentle moment I divine Thy dawning presence
flush my tremulous air。
20。
If I have to forget thee； do thou see It be a good； not bad forgetfulness；
That all its mellow； truthful air be free 》From dusty noes； and soft with
many a yes； That as thy breath my life； my life may be Man's breath。 So
when thou com'st at hour unknown； Thou shalt find nothing in me but
thine own。
21。
Thou being in me； in my deepest me； Through all the time I do not
think of thee； Shall I not grow at last so true within As to forget thee and
yet never sin？ Shall I not walk the loud world's busy way； Yet in thy
palace…porch sit all the day？ Not conscious think of thee； yet never from
thee stray？
22。
Forget！Oh； must it be？Would it were rather That every sense was
so filled with my father That not in anything could I forget him； But
deepest； highest must in all things set him！ Yet if thou think in me； God；
what great matter Though my poor thought to former break and latter As
now my best thoughts； break； before thee foiled； and scatter！
23。
Some way there must be of my not forgetting； And thither thou art
leading me； my God。 The child that； weary of his mother's petting； Runs
out the moment that his feet are shod； May see her face in every flower he
sees； And she； although beyond the window sitting； Be nearer him than
when he sat upon her knees。
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24。
What if； when I at last； at the long last； Shall see thy face； my Lord；
my life's delight； It should not be the face that hath been glassed In poor
imagination's mirror slight！ Will my soul sink； and shall I stand aghast；
Beggared of hope； my heart a conscious blight； Amazed and lostdeath's
bitterness come and not passed？
25。
Ah； no！ for from thy heart the love will press； And shining from thy
perfect human face； Will sink into me like the father's kiss； And deepening
wide the gulf of consciousness Beyond imagination's lowest abyss； Will；
with the potency of creative grace； Lord it throughout the larger thinking
place。
26。
Thus God…possessed； new born； ah； not for long Should I the sight
behold； beatified； Know it creating in me； feel the throng Of speechless
hopes out…throbbing like a tide； And my heart rushing； borne aloft the
flood； To offer at his feet its living blood Ere； glory…hid； the other face I
spied。
27。
For out imagination is； in small； And with the making…difference that
must be； Mirror of God's creating mirror； all That shows itself therein； that
formeth he； And there is Christ； no bodiless vanity； Though； face to face；
the mighty perfectness With glory blurs the dim…reflected less。
28。
I clasp thy feet； O father of the living！ Thou wilt not let my fluttering
hopes be more； Or lovelier； or greater； than thy giving！ Surely thy ships
will bring to my poor shore； Of gold and peacocks such a shining store As
will laugh all the dreams to holy scorn； Of love and sorrow that were ever
born。
29。
Sometimes it seems pure natural to trust； And trust right largely；
grandly； infinitely； Daring the splendour of the giver's part； At other times；
the whole earth is but dust； The sky is dust； yea； dust the human heart；
Then art thou nowhere； there is no room for thee In the great dust…heap of
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eternity。
30。
But why should it be possible to mistrust Nor possible only； but its
opposite hard？ Why should not man believe because he must By sight's
compulsion？ Why should he be scarred With conflict？ worn with doubting
fine and long？ No man is fit for heaven's musician throng Who has not
tuned an instrument all shook and jarred。
31。
Therefore； O Lord； when all things common seem； When all is dust；
and self the centre clod； When grandeur is a hopeless； foolish dream； And
anxious care more reasonable than God； Out of the ashes I will call to
thee In spite of dead distrust call earnestly： Oh thou who livest； call；
then answer dying me。
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SEPTEMBER。
1。
WE are a shadow and a shining； we！ One moment nothing seems but
what we see； Nor aught to rule but common circumstance Nought is to
seek but praise； to shun but chance； A moment more； and God is all in all；
And not a sparrow from its nest can fall But from the ground its chirp goes
up into his hall。
2。
I know at least which is the better mood。 When on a heap of cares I sit
and brood； Like Job upon his ashes； sorely vext； I feel a lower thing than
when I stood The world's true heir； fearless as； on its stalk； A lily meeting
Jesus in his walk： I am not all moodI can judge betwixt。
3。
Such differing moods can scarce to one belong； Shall the same
fountain sweet and bitter yield？ Shall what bore late the dust…mood； think
and brood Till it bring forth the great believing mood？ Or that which bore
the grand mood； bald and peeled； Sit down to croon the shabby sensual
song； To hug itself； and sink from wrong to meaner wrong？
4。
In the low mood； the mere man acts alone； Moved by impulses which；
if from within； Yet far outside the centre man begin； But in the grand
mood； every softest tone Comes from the living God at very heart 》From
thee who infinite core of being art； Thee who didst call our names ere ever
we could sin。
5。
There is a coward sparing in the heart； Offspring of penury and low…
born fear： Prayer must take heed nor overdo its part； Asking too much of
him with open ear！ Sinners must wait； not seek the very best； Cry out for
peace； and be of middling cheer： False heart！ thou cheatest God； and dost
thy life molest。
6。
Thou hungerest not； thou thirstest not enough。 Thou art a temporizing
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thing； mean heart。 Down…drawn； thou pick'st up straws and wretched stuff；
Stooping as if the world's floor were the chart Of the long way thy lazy
feet must tread。 Thou dreamest of the crown hung o'er thy head But that
is safethou gatherest hairs and fluff！
7。
Man's highest action is to reach up higher； Stir up himself to take hold
of his sire。 Then best I love you； dearest； when I go And cry to love's life I
may love you so As to content the yearning； making love； That perfects
strength divine in weakness' fire； And from the broken pots calls out the
silver dove。
8
