By: Saint Therese of Lisieux
(January
21, 1897)
How
many souls on earth there are,
Who
vainly seek for peace and rest!
With
me, ‘tis otherwise by far;
Joy
dwells forever in my breast.
No
fading blossom is this flower,
Of
its decay no fear have I;
Like
fragrant rose in springtime’s bower
So
fair it is yet shall not die.
Well-nigh
too great my gladness is,
All
things I wish are mine today.
How
can I help but show my bliss,
Who
am so light at heart, so gay?
My
joy I find in pain and loss,
I
love the thorns that guard the rose;
With
joy I kiss each heavy cross,
And
smile with every tear that flows.
When
clouds the sunny skies o’ercast,
And
weary grows my heart the while,
My
joy it is that joy is past,
And
gone my Lord’s consoling smile.
My
peace is hid in Jesus’ breast,
May
His sweet will alone be done!
What
fear can mar my perfect rest,
Who
love the shadow as the sun?
My
peace, ’tis like a child to be,
That
doth not plan, nor understand;
So,
when I fall, Christ raiseth me,
And
leads me gently by the hand.
My
childish love I manifest,
And
for His grace alone implore;
Then,
if He hide, my love to test,
I
only love Him all the more.
My
peace, it is to hide my tears,
Nor
ever show my bitter pain.
What
joy to suffer through the years;
To
veil with flowers each galling chain!
To
suffer, yet make no complaint,
Since
this, my Jesus, pleases Thee!
Could
any trial make me faint?
’Tis
Thy sweet cross is laid on me.
My
peace,— it is with God to plead,
In
prayers and tears, by day and night;
For
many souls to intercede,
And
say to Him, my heart’s Delight:
“O
Little Brother, Heavenly King!
For
Thee the cross I gladly bear.
My
only joy is suffering,
Since
thus Thy earthly lot I share.”
I
long would live an exile here,
If
that be Thy dear will for me;
Or
soon would flee from exile drear,
If
thou shouldst call me unto Thee.
Since
Love’s divine, celestial breath
Is
all I need, my heart to bless,
What
matters life, what matters death?
Love
is my peace, my happiness!
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