To the end of the trail / Richard Hovey [electronic text]

PÈRE AMBROISE

DID you see the joy and peace of God's great grace On her face! Did you hear the calm still sainthood in her speak Through her cheek? Then that light of holy knowledge, clear and wise, In her eyes? — Ere her face was hid forever, chaste and pale, By the veil, Ere the vision and the glory and the light Passed from sight, Loving, trusting, God's own work that God had blessed, Full of rest.

Yet she loved me in a fashion as I think. Just a chink In the lattice of her heart let through one day One faint ray Of the roselight of the morning of love's skies On my eyes, And the phantom of the roselight on her cheek Bade me speak. Had I spoken, had I fanned the spark aflame, Would the same Fate have fallen on us, think you, now we dree — I and she?

But I stopped, even while my heart leaped with the mirth Of love's birth, Stopped — I thought I heard God's messenger somewhere — In the air, Was it? — bid unbuskin lest my footprints wound Holy ground. Sweet wise novice, she was seeking truer bliss, Jesu's kiss. I, God's consecrated priest, should I step in, Thrust between Her white soul and endless love my poor love-dower Of an hour!

So I rushed away and left her standing there, Tall and fair As the angel when he stood by Mary's side, Awed, and cried "Ave, plena gratia!" seeing her fair sweet face, Full of grace. Holy Mother! may she never know the cause Made me pause So abruptly! Well, love's might-be in her breast Slept unguessed Save by me, and I — I left her, tall and fair, Standing there. Ah, the bitter tears I shed then, all alone, Falling prone

Where the crucifix within the shadow hangs -God's own pangs, God's death shown in symbol, His heartache divine Dwarfing mine — At the priedieu in the corner of the room In the gloom. And I sobbed myself to silence, let heart break For His sake, As His Sacred Heart long since at Calvary Broke for me.

I had taught her, I had poured into her ear All the dear Mystic wonder of the Love above all love,—Tried to prove To her pure faith, where no need of proof was, how Man should now Give the love back as completely as he can, Being but man, Pain for pain and blood for blood and strife for strife, — Life for life. How her face flushed — then grew paler than blown mist, Rapt and whist! No heat like the iron when it whitens!— so When she'd show That death-pallor in her cheek while eye-fires blazed, Unamazed

I had seen her brave the Devil, stood he where She must fare Past him in the sheer high pathway that she trod Leads to God, — She had plunged her hand with Mutius in the flame, Faced the shame And the suffering, the spitting and the spear, Without fear.

So I wakened in her heart the first desireFor the higher Life of utter selflessness and sacrifice, Saw arise A great innocent fearlessness that made me fear, Saw appear Golden first-fruits of devotion ripeningIn the spring Of the new Christ-year whose Easter bade her then Rise again; And I loved her in her life of love and prayer Unaware.

Unaware! —ah, but now the clouds withdrew And I knew! —Felt the might of love within me rend my heart, Great drops start From my body as I agonized, lying there, In despair!

And I called upon her, murmured her sweet name.Should God claim This of all things, more to me than all the gold World could hold, More than fame, power, victory in the dearest strife — More than life!

More than God, I had almost said. But that wild thought Stopped me — brought Fear upon me — a great horror. Then light broke Through the smoke Round about me and I seemed to see God's plan Chastening man. "I, the Lord thy God, a jealous God, demand Heart and hand First for Me to labor, first love Me, My sway First obey — Mine your firstlings, Mine your first fruits, Mine your best — Costliest!"

Was not she my dearest, best — fit sacrifice In God's eyes, Lest perchance her image leave nought in my heart For His part? Might it not be best for me to lose her here?She so near,

God so far away in heaven, how should I not Have forgot God, — seeing the wondrous beauty of her hair, And the fair Angel face — and then the deeps, the mysteries Of her eyes!

If I give her now to God, my pearl of price,Greater thrice In my eyes — ah, heaven! — than all else life has brought, Shall He not, In the yonder-world when I have burned away All the clay From my spirit and the gold alone remains, Bless my pains With this gift back from His hands that took to give? "Die to live," Was His word of old. Dead love may, like dead men, Rise again, —Not to earth-life here, but at the Day of Days In the place Of God's dwelling, where reflections of the Trine Union shine Through innumerable unions, caught and bound In one round

Up to Him and in Him by a mystery strange That shall change All the myrrh of sorrow offered at His shrine Into Wine. Shall God scorn a broken heart? Shall He despise Sacrifice?

Then I looked up at the crucifix above —God's great love Broke upon me like a torrent whirling down Tower and town In its pathway, — and the mystery grew more clear Symboled there. What was man's poor love in 's farthest weariest reach, — Loftiest niche Man could statue in his heart's cathedral,— height Of heart's flight, — To God's love before the ages had begun For His Son!

Holier than the holiest love that e'er the earth Brought to birth, Mary's for the Christ-child, burning brighter far Than the star Led the wise men — She our sea-star, beaconing, So to bring Us too with her to the Christ — she, who became Heaven's Dame! —

Holier still and higher and swifter Thine, Love Divine,Outsoars Mary's even, far as hers outsoursHeight of ours.

Yet God gave His Son — O mystery that sleeps In God's deeps! —Let His infinite Love be tortured — pierced and torn — Turned to scorn For our sake — ay, even for this poor half-divine Love of mine. Now He asks me, shall I shrink to give Him thence Recompense? How the mist about me at this break of day Cleared away And God's meaning slowly, like the morning, stole On my soul!

Yield you, bend your will to His will; who obeys, Gets God's grace. Though the Devil's pride within you still impel To rebel, Keeping back the day of God's fulfilment here, Do not fear, —Vanquished is victorious; freedom's self-defeat Being complete, Then the purpose of God's lesson is made known, Hell's o'erthrown,

And submission lifts to higher liberty —Love makes free.

If you yield you as the helpless knife obeys Him that slays —. As the senseless waters tumble down the hill, Will or nill, That's the Stoic, that benumbs you, makes you slave, As Christ gave Freedom, life for you, so give you with good will, Then you fill God's full cup of sacrifice to brim, and so Come to know God's way, act it, be it, so with God to be, As God, free, —Freedom, lost once, freely yielded at God's feet, Now more sweet, Found again at God's feet, past the ebb and flow, In Heaven's glow. See, God striving with me, I would not unclasp My heart's grasp Till He blessed me — then I rose and stole away.… The next day Made excuses — certain matters of import — Well, in short, That's the last I saw of her till twelve hours since. I did wince

In the church there. How heart's embers burst to flame! But I came Back for that, — that last look. Ite, missa est.… What a rest In the stars! The lazy wind in the close beneath Seems to breathe A great quiet. That's like our love, sister — ours, Peace embowers, Calm and tender. See the moonlight's elfish play On the bay.… What a heavy scent of honeysuckle! … So! Let us go.

1887