Hymn, after Gabriele Rossetti

My Lord, my Love! in pleasant pain
How often have I said,
'Blessed that John who on Thy breast
Laid down his head.'

It was that contact all divine
Transformed him from above,
And made him amongst men the man
To show forth holy love.

Yet shall I envy blessed John?
Nay not so verily,
Now that Thou, Lord, both Man and God,
Dost dwell in me:

Upbuilding with Thy Manhood's might
My frail humanity;
Yea, Thy Divinehood pouring forth,
In fullness filling me.

Me, Lord, Thy temple consecrate,
Even me to Thee alone;
Lord, reign upon my willing heart
Which is Thy throne:

To Thee the Seraphim fall down
Adoring round Thy house;
For which of them hath tasted Thee
My Manna and my Spouse?

Now that Thy life lives in my soul
And sways and warms it through,
I scarce seem lesser than the world,
Thy temple too.

O God, who dwellest in my heart,
My God who fillest me,
The broad immensity itself
Hath not encompassed Thee.