Rampolli - A Year's Diary of an Old Soul
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My faith to thee I break not,
If all should faithless be, That gratitude forsake not
The world eternally. For my sake Death did sting thee
With anguish keen and sore; Therefore with joy I bring thee
This heart for evermore.
Oft weep I like a river
That thou art dead, and yet So many of thine thee, Giver
Of life, life-long forget! By love alone possessed,
Such great things thou hast done! But thou art dead, O Blessed,
And no one thinks thereon!
Thou stand'st with love unshaken
Ever by every man; And if by all forsaken,
Art still the faithful one. Such love must win the wrestle;
At last thy love they'll see, Weep bitterly, and nestle
Like children to thy knee.
Thou with thy love hast found me!
O do not let me go! Keep me where thou hast bound me
Till one with thee I grow. My brothers yet will waken,
One look to heaven will dart-- Then sink down, love-o'ertaken,
And fall upon thy heart.