Bring Thy Tumults
My little earth wakes to Thy name dawning within,
Climbing over sleep’s base and horizon of dream,
Painting sky of half-woke thought with Thy gleam,
Oh for each day with Thy heralding name to begin!
Oh absentee Beloved how many borders breached
In my being now become Thy conquered terrain,
My parched earth pines for Thy coming’s rain,
Oh by Thee alone can these ardours be doused.
Widen me Beloved to a clay and silent stone,
Sculpt them to a shape of each Thy thought.
Heighten me to dust trod by Thy blessed feet,
Assail me with the light-spears of Thy passion.
O Glory, O Tempestuous Divine, O Storm of heaven,
Bring Thy tumults upon my being prostrate and prone.