Are pearls; though we’re used them as tears to misgreet.
My soul’s Soul’s the tyrant of whom I complain.
Complaint I make not. I describe but my pain.
My heart but pretends it has been too much hurt;
Excuse is this merely. I smile at such blurt.
Do justice now, God, of all justice the fount!
Thou sittest in justice’ seat; threshold I count.240
From chief seat to threshold! How far raised above!
Where stand “we” and “I” in the sight of our love?[230]
O Thou who art free, quite from “I” and from “we,”