Poems (Kimball)/The Divine Love
THE DIVINE LOVE.
O PATIENT God, whom men forsake, All-kind, all-gracious as Thou art, How soon our faithlessness would break A human heart!
How vast must be the Love so strong, Its yearning, oh, how fathomless, That sin prolonged should yet prolong Thy tenderness!
Though we may slight that Love with doubt, Thy paths of sweet commandment spurn, Thou wilt in no wise cast him out Who would return!
The uttermost Thy Love doth reach And oh the pathos of its cry All humbled to our human speech,— "Why will ye die?"
Were not Thy wide compassion more Than even all the powers of sin These feet would never find Thy Door, And enter in.
We see Thee as the suffering Christ With Cross and Passion bowèd down; Earth's meanest things for Thee sufficed, And Sorrow's crown,
If only famished souls might flee Life's husks for Love's Eternal Feast, And all might dwell in bliss with Thee— The very least!
"Lord, we repent! Lord, we believe!" And Thou acceptest even this? And faithless wanderers wilt receive With heavenly kiss?
O Love! we sink from Thine embrace Thy feet to kiss forevermore! The humblest is the fittest place When souls adore!