Against my will was I exiled From that bright region, fair and fain, From that life, glad and undefiled, And longing dulled my sense again; I swooned in sorrow for the child, Needs must my heart cry and complain: "O Pearl, dear was thy counsel mild, In this true vision of my brain! If very truth divide us twain; If thou goest crowned, secure from ill, Well for me in my prison-pain That thou art to the Prince's will." To the Prince's will had my heart bent, And sought but what to me was given, Held fast to that, with true intent, As my Pearl prayed me out of heaven; Did I to God my thoughts present, More in His mysteries had I thriven. But a man will seek more than is sent, Till from his hand his hope be riven. Thus from my joy was I forth driven, From the life upon that holy hill. Oh, fools, that with the Lord have striven, Or proffered gifts against his will! The Prince's will to serve aright The Christian may full well divine; For I have found Him, day and night, A God, a Lord, a Friend in fine. Upon this mound my soul hath sight, Where I for piteous sorrow pine; My Pearl to God I pledge and plight, With Christ's dear blessing and with mine,-- His, who, in form of bread and wine, The priest doth daily show us still. His servants may we be, or shine, Pure pearls, according to his will. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Pearl, by Sophie Jewett