Still, still, without ceasing, I feel it increasing, This fervour of holy desire; And often exclaim, Let me die in the flame Of a love that can never expire! | Had I words to explain What she must sustain Who dies to the world and its ways; How joy and affright, Distress and delight, Alternately chequer her days: | Thou, sweetly severe! I would make thee appear, In all thou art pleased to award. Not more in the sweet Than the bitter I meet My tender and merciful Lord. | This faith, in the dark, Pursuing its mark, Through many sharp trials of love, Is the sorrowful waste That is to be passed On the way to the Canaan above. | |