Any Saint

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His shoulder did I hold
Too high that I, o'erbold
  Weak one,
  Should lean thereon.

But He a little hath
Declined His stately path
  And my
  Feet set more high;

That the slack arm may reach
His shoulder, and faint speech
  Stir
  His unwithering hair.

And bolder now and bolder
I lean upon that shoulder
  So dear
  He is and near:

And with His aureole
The tresses of my soul
  Are blent
  In wished content.

Yes, this too gentle Lover
Hath flattering words to move her
  To pride
  By His sweet side.

Ah, Love! somewhat let be!
Lest my humility
  Grow weak
  When thou dost speak!

Rebate thy tender suit,
Lest to herself impute
  Some worth
  Thy bride of earth!

A maid too easily
Conceits herself to be
  Those things
  Her lover sings;

And being straitly wooed,
Believes herself the Good
  And Fair
  He seeks in her.

Turn something of Thy look,
And fear me with rebuke,
  That I
  May timorously

Take tremors in Thy arms,
And with contriv-ed charms
  Allure
  A love unsure.

Not to me, not to me,
Builded so flawfully,
  O God,
  Thy humbling laud!

Not to this man, but Man,--
Universe in a span;
  Point
  Of the spheres conjoint;

In whom eternally
Thou, Light, dost focus Thee!--
  Didst pave
  The way o' the wave;

Rivet with stars the Heaven,
For causeways to Thy driven
  Car
  In its coming far

Unto him, only him;
In Thy deific whim
  Didst bound
  Thy works' great round

In this small ring of flesh;
The sky's gold-knotted mesh
  Thy wrist
  Did only twist

To take him in that net.--
Man! swinging-wicket set
  Between
  The Unseen and Seen;

Lo, God's two worlds immense,
Of spirit and of sense,
  Wed
  In this narrow bed;

Yea, and the midge's hymn
Answers the seraphim
  Athwart
  Thy body's court!

Great arm-fellow of God!
To the ancestral clod
  Kin,
  And to cherubin;

Bread predilectedly
O' the worm and Deity!
  Hark,
  O God's clay-sealed Ark,

To praise that fits thee, clear
To the ear within the ear,
  But dense
  To clay-sealed sense.

All the Omnific made
When in a word he said,
  (Mystery!)
  He uttered THEE;

Thee His great utterance bore,
O secret metaphor
  Of what
  Thou dream'st no jot!

Cosmic metonymy!
Weak world-unshuttering key!
  One
  Seal of Solomon!

Trope that itself not scans
Its huge significance,
  Which tries
  Cherubic eyes.

Primer where the angels all
God's grammar spell in small,
  Nor spell
  The highest too well.

Point for the great descants
Of starry disputants;
  Equation
  Of creation.

Thou meaning, couldst thou see,
Of all which dafteth thee;
  So plain,
  It mocks thy pain;

Stone of the Law indeed,
Thine own self couldst thou read;
  Thy bliss
  Within thee is.

Compost of Heaven and mire,
Slow foot and swift desire!
  Lo,
  To have Yes, choose No;

Gird, and thou shalt unbind;
Seek not, and thou shalt find;
  To eat,
  Deny thy meat;

And thou shalt be fulfilled
With all sweet things unwilled:
  So best
  God loves to jest

With children small--a freak
Of heavenly hide-and-seek
  Fit
  For thy wayward wit,

Who art thyself a thing
Of whim and wavering;
  Free
  When His wings pen thee;

Sole fully blest, to feel
God whistle thee at heel;
  Drunk up
  As a dew-drop,

When He bends down, sun-wise,
Intemperable eyes;
  Most proud,
  When utterly bowed.

To feel thyself and be
His dear nonentity--
  Caught
  Beyond human thought

In the thunder-spout of Him,
Until thy being dim,
  And be
  Dead deathlessly.

Stoop, stoop; for thou dost fear
The nettle's wrathful spear,
  So slight
  Art thou of might!

Rise; for Heaven hath no frown
When thou to thee pluck'st down,
  Strong clod!
  The neck of God.

© Francis Thompson