“Image of my Divinity, ennobled by my manhood, adorned by my Holy Spirit, how is thy treasure called?”
“Lord, it is called my heart’s desire: I have withdrawn it from the world, withheld it from myself, forbidden it all creatures. I can carry it no farther; Lord, where shall I lay it?”
“Thou shalt lay thy heart’s desire nowhere else than in my divine heart and on my human breast. There only wilt thou be comforted and kissed with my spirit.”
Love casts out fear and difference, and lifts the Soul to equality with the divine Lover. Through the passion of love the Soul may pass into the Beloved’s being, and become one with Him: “He, thy life, died from love for thy sake; now love Him so that thou mayest long to die for His sake. Then shalt thou burn for evermore unquenched, like a shining spark in the great fire of the Living Majesty.”
These are passion’s vision-flights. But God himself points out the way by which the Soul that loves shall come to Him: she—the Soul—shall come, surmounting the need of penitence and penance, surmounting love of the world, conflicts with the devil, carnal appetite, and the promptings of her own will. Thereupon, exhausted, she shall yearn resistlessly for that beautiful Youth (Christ). He will be moved to come to meet her. Now her guardians (the Senses) bid her attire herself. “Love, whither shall I hence?” she cries. The Senses make answer: “We hear the murmur; the Prince will come to meet you in the dew and the sweet-bird song. Courage, Lady, He will not tarry.”
The Soul clothes herself in a garment of humility, and over it draws the white robe of chastity, and goes into the wood. There nightingales sing of union with God, and strains of divine knowledge meet her ears. She then strives to follow in festal dance (i.e. to imitate) the example of the prophets, the chaste humility of the Virgin, the virtues of Jesus, and the piety of His saints. Then comes the Youth and says: “Maiden, thou hast danced holily, even as my saints.”
The Soul answers: “I cannot dance unless thou leadest. If thou wouldst have me spring aloft, sing thou: and I will spring—into love, and from love to knowledge, and from knowledge to ecstasy, above all human sense.”
The Youth speaks: “Maiden, thy dance of praise is well performed. Since now thou art tired, thou shalt have thy will with the Virgin’s Son. Come to the brown shades at midday, to the couch of love, and there shalt thou cool thyself with Him.”
Then the Soul speaks to her guardians, the Senses: “I am tired with the dance; leave me, for I must go where I may cool myself.” The Senses bid her cool herself in the tears of love shed by St. Mary Magdalen.
“Hush, good sirs: ye know not what I mean. Unhindered, for a little I would drink the unmixed wine.”