Love I was shewn upon the mountain-side
And bid to catch Him ere the drop of day.
See, Love, I creep and thou on wings dost ride:
Love, it is evening now and thou away;
Love, it grows darker here and thou art above;
Love, come down to me if thy name be Love.
My national old Egyptian reed gave way;
I took the vine of a cross-barred rod or rood.
Then next I hungered: Love when here, they say,
Or once or never took Love’s proper food;
But I must yield the chase, or rest and eat.—
Peace and food cheered me where four rough ways meet.
Hear yet my paradox: Love, when all is given,
To see thee I must see thee, to love, love;
I must o’retake thee at once and under Heaven
If I shall overtake thee at last above.
You have your wish; enter these walls, one said:
He is with you in the breaking of the bread.