What secret charm had he so early learned
Which made a joy of pain? of sacrifice
His life-long pleasure? Soul and heart had burned
Within love’s fiery crucible where dies
Nature and self and sense; for God he yearned;
For God and souls were poured his nightly sighs.
Thou sacred volume, fruit of years of prayer,
Of holy contemplation, seraph love,
Dost unto me this hidden charm declare;
With his own life each word is interwove.