Burst with sorrow, drown with love!...
Lord, if Thou the boon deny,
Thou wilt not the wish reprove.” ...
Whence that piercing, burning ray,
Seem’d to reach me from the light
Where, behind the Veil, ’tis day—
Where the Blessèd walk by sight?
Thine, ’twas thine, O Sacred Heart!
Mercy-sent—that I might see
Something of the all Thou art,