Rachel's indignation so
Like a sea wrought and was tempestuous.
But the recoil of her own violent speech
First gave her pause, then pierced her with remorse.
Daily, from when she, hearing Stephen speak,
Heard God through Stephen speaking, and obeyed,
Rachel, first having in baptism testified
Her death to sin, her birth to righteousness--
Never her absent brother dreaming it--
Gladsome had broken bread of fellowship
With the disciples of the Lord, and learned,
Both from their lips and from their lives beheld,
Deep lessons in the lore of Jesus, apt
By the tuition of the Holy Ghost.
The better spirit, for a moment lost,
So lately made her own, came back to her.
Sadly she mused, recalling her hot words
Of passion:
"'Tempest'? Tempest sure just now
Hummed in me. 'Scorn myself'? What word was that?
Rachel forsooth forbade Saul saying, 'I hate
Myself'--and scorn herself does she, yea, here
Sit impotently brooding scorn for scorn
To rival him? Surely I missed my way.
'Scorn,' 'hate,' one spirit both these speak, such scorn
Such hate, in him, in me. One spirit both,
And that the spirit of this world, not His,
Not Christ's, no spirit of Thine, O Crucified,
Thou meek and lowly holy Lamb of God!
Forgive, forgive me, from Thy cross of shame
And passion, O Thou suffering Son of God!
Once prayedst Thou thence for those that murdered Thee,
'Father, forgive them, for they know not what
They do.' I knew not what I did when so
I crucified Thee afresh through shameful pride.
My heart breaks with my sorrow for my sin,
A broken and a contrite heart, O Lord,
Thou never wilt despise.
"And now yet more
My heart breaks with forgiveness poured on me.
O sweet and blessed flood, pour on me still!
Deliciously I tremble and rejoice.
To be thus broken is bliss more to me
Than to be whole. I love to lie dissolved,
Dissolving, under this soft fall of peace
Distilled like dew from out Thy bleeding heart!
Lo, here I wholly, wholly, wholly yield
To Thee, O Christ, am fluid utterly,
To take whatever shape Thee best may please.
Remake me after Thine own image, Lord!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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