The Divine Privilege
 
Lord, where are Thy prerogatives?
   Why, men have more than Thou hast kept;
The king rewards, remits, forgives,
   The poet to a throne has stept.
 
And Thou, despoiled, hast given away
   Worship to men, success to strife,
Thy glory to the heavenly day,
   And made Thy sun the lord of life.
 
Is one too precious to impart,
   One property reserved to Christ,
One, cherished, grappled to that heart?
   —To be alone the Sacrificed?
 
O Thou who lovest to redeem!—
   One whom I know lies sore oppressed.
Thou wilt not suffer me to dream
   That I can bargain for her rest.
 
Seven hours I swiftly sleep, while she
   Measures the leagues of dark, awake.
O that my dewy eyes might be
   Parched by a vigil for her sake!
 
But O rejected! O in vain!
   I cannot give who would not keep.
I cannot buy, I cannot gain,
I cannot give her half my sleep.


Webpage © 2001 ELC
Lane Core Jr. (lane@elcore.net)
http://poetry.elcore.net/CatholicPoets/Meynell/Meynell088.html
Created April 10, 2001; not revised.