Love

Love's painful sting envelopes me
   whole and entire
But there is no one there
   No, not even Thee
They say absence makes the heart
   grow fonder.
But they forget to mention
   the pain and torture
When? When whilst thou come
   to ease this bleeding wound?
I cannot but hope that your
   answer is soon . . . soon.
Save me! Save me from this Cross
   that kills!
The yoke is too heavy and my
   heart has cracked.
The dove's woeful cooing
   shrills!
And over my heart scabbed is
   blacked.
Then comes Your Holy Mother
   in Mercy shrined.
And with arms outstretched
   her brightness blind.
She takes my heart and
   makes it whole.
And with her love
   She makes me Thine.
Oh! Thou Blessed Mother
   Take me to He!
For I am heavy burdened
   and sickly grieved.
She smiles joyfully with
   sad eyes teared.
And points to her heart
   where Thine sword pierced.
Again my heart fails and
   I fall toward the dark.
But She catches me before
   all hope is lost.
I cannot! I am nothing.
   I am unable to pay the cost.
My Lord and my God
   Why hast Thou forsaken me?
She pulls me up a ragged hill
   and there I see
You have already carried my Cross
   and for that
They hung You on a Tree.