Jesus, Do I Love Thee?

(Lyra Eucharistica, second edition, 1864.)


Jesus, do I love Thee?
Thou art far above me,
Seated out of sight
Hid in Heavenly Light
Of most highest height.
Martyred hosts implore Thee,
Seraphs fall before Thee,
Angels and Archangels,
Cherub throngs adore Thee;
Blessed She that bore Thee!
All the Saints approve Thee,
All the Virgins love Thee.
I show as a blot
Blood hath cleansed not,
As a barren spot
In Thy fruitful lot.
I, fig-tree fruit-unbearing;
Thou, righteous Judge unsparing:
What canst Thou do more to me
That shall not more undo me?
Thy Justice hath a sound -
Why cumbereth it the ground?
Thy Love with stirrings stronger
Pleads - Give it one year longer.
Thou giv'st me time: but who
Save Thou shall give me dew;
Shall feed my root with Blood,
And stir my sap for good?
Oh, by Thy Gifts that shame me,
Give more lest they condemn me:
Good Lord, I ask much of Thee,
But most I ask to love Thee;
Kind Lord, be mindful of me,
Love me, and make me love Thee.

Christina Georgina Rossetti

Christina Georgina Rossetti was an English poet born on December 5, 1830, and passed away on December 29, 1894. She is best known for her romantic, devotional, and children's poems. Rossetti's works include the famous poem 'Goblin Market' and the Christmas carol 'In the Bleak Midwinter'. A major Victorian poet, her writing often featured themes of love, nature, and spirituality. She was associated with the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, as her brother Dante Gabriel Rossetti was one of its founders.

Christina Georgina Rossetti

All Thy Works Praise Thee, O Lord. - A Processional Of Creation.

Christina Georgina Rossetti, Simple Poetry

Tempus Fugit.

Christina Georgina Rossetti, Simple Poetry

Amen

Christina Georgina Rossetti, Simple Poetry

If Thou Sayest, Behold, We Knew It Not.

Christina Georgina Rossetti, Simple Poetry

English

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Take Care Of Him.

"Thou whom I love, for whom I died,
Lovest thou Me, My bride?" -
Low on my knees I love Thee, Lord,
Believed in and adored.

"That I love thee the proof is plain:
How dost thou love again?" -
In prayer, in toil, in earthly loss,
In a long-carried cross.

"Yea, thou dost love: yet one adept
Brings more for Me to accept." -
I mould my will to match with Thine,
My wishes I resign.

"Thou givest much: then give the whole
For solace of My soul." -
More would I give, if I could get:
But, Lord, what lack I yet?

"In Me thou lovest Me: I call
Thee to love Me in all." -
Brim full my heart, dear Lord, that so
My love may overflow.

"Love Me in sinners and in saints,
In each who needs or faints." -
Lord, I will love ...

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When My Heart Is Vexed, I Will Complain.

"O Lord, how canst Thou say Thou lovest me?
Me whom thou settest in a barren land,
Hungry and thirsty on the burning sand,
Hungry and thirsty where no waters be
Nor shadows of date-bearing tree: -
O Lord, how canst Thou say Thou lovest me?"

"I came from Edom by as parched a track,
As rough a track beneath My bleeding feet.
I came from Edom seeking thee, and sweet
I counted bitterness; I turned not back
But counted life as death, and trod
The winepress all alone: and I am God."

"Yet, Lord, how canst Thou say Thou lovest me?
For Thou art strong to comfort: and could I
But comfort one I love, who, like to die,
Lifts feeble hands and eyes that fail to see
In one last prayer for comfort - nay,
I could not stand aside or turn away."

"Alas...

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The Love Of Christ Which Passeth Knowledge

I bore with thee long weary days and nights,
    Through many pangs of heart, through many tears;
I bore with thee, thy hardness, coldness, slights,
    For three and thirty years.

Who else had dared for thee what I have dared?
    I plunged the depth most deep from bliss above;
I not My flesh, I not My spirit spared:
    Give thou Me love for love.

For thee I thirsted in the daily drouth,
    For thee I trembled in the nightly frost:
Much sweeter thou than honey to My mouth:
    Why wilt thou still be lost?

I bore thee on My shoulders and rejoiced:
    Men only marked upon My shoulders borne
The branding cross; and shouted hungry-voiced,
    Or wagged their heads in scorn.

Thee did nails grave upon My hands, thy name
    Did thorn...

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After This The Judgement

As eager homebound traveller to the goal,
    Or steadfast seeker on an unsearched main,
Or martyr panting for an aureole,
    My fellow-pilgrims pass me, and attain
That hidden mansion of perpetual peace
    Where keen desire and hope dwell free from pain:
That gate stands open of perennial ease;
    I view the glory till I partly long,
Yet lack the fire of love which quickens these.
    O passing Angel, speed me with a song,
A melody of heaven to reach my heart
    And rouse me to the race and make me strong;
Till in such music I take up my part
    Swelling those Hallelujahs full of rest,
One, tenfold, hundredfold, with heavenly art,
    Fulfilling north and south and east and west,
Thousand, ten thousandfold, innumerable,
    All blent in one yet each...

Christina Georgina Rossetti

Why?

Lord, if I love Thee and Thou lovest me,
Why need I any more these toilsome days;
Why should I not run singing up Thy ways
Straight into heaven, to rest myself with Thee?
What need remains of death-pang yet to be,
If all my soul is quickened in Thy praise;
If all my heart loves Thee, what need the amaze,
Struggle and dimness of an agony? -
Bride whom I love, if thou too lovest Me,
Thou needs must choose My Likeness for thy dower:
So wilt thou toil in patience, and abide
Hungering and thirsting for that blessed hour
When I My Likeness shall behold in thee,
And thou therein shalt waken satisfied.

Christina Georgina Rossetti

It Is Finished.

Dear Lord, let me recount to Thee
Some of the great things thou hast done
For me, even me
Thy little one.

It was not I that cared for Thee, -
But Thou didst set Thy heart upon
Me, even me
Thy little one.

And therefore was it sweet to Thee
To leave Thy Majesty and Throne,
And grow like me
A Little One,

A swaddled Baby on the knee
Of a dear Mother of Thine own,
Quite weak like me
Thy little one.

Thou didst assume my misery,
And reap the harvest I had sown,
Comforting me
Thy little one.

Jerusalem and Galilee, -
Thy love embraced not those alone,
But also me
Thy little one.

Thy unblemished Body on the Tree
Was bared and broken to atone
For me, for me
Thy little one.

Christina Georgina Rossetti