Goblin Market, and other poems, by Christina Rossetti

‘A Bruised Reed Shall he Not Break’

I will accept thy will to do and be,

    Thy hatred and intolerance of sin,

    Thy will at least to love, that burns within

        And thirsteth after Me:

So will I render fruitful, blessing still,

    The germs and small beginnings in thy heart,

    Because thy will cleaves to the better part. —

        Alas, I cannot will.

Dost not thou will, poor soul? Yet I receive

    The inner unseen longings of the soul,

    I guide them turning towards Me; I control

        And charm hearts till they grieve:

If thou desire, it yet shall come to pass,

    Though thou but wish indeed to choose My love;

    For I have power in earth and heaven above. —

        I cannot wish, alas!

What, neither choose nor wish to choose? and yet

    I still must strive to win thee and constrain:

    For thee I hung upon the cross in pain,

        How then can I forget?

If thou as yet dost neither love, nor hate,

    Nor choose, nor wish, — resign thyself, be still

    Till I infuse love, hatred, longing, will. —

        I do not deprecate.


Last updated Thursday, March 6, 2014 at 15:33