No vision of the night can show, no word declare, with what longings of love Divine Love waits till the heart, all weary and sick of itself, turns to its Lord and says, "Take full possession." There is no need to plead that the love of God shall fill our heart as though He were unwilling to fill us: He is willing as light is willing to flood a room that is opened to its brightness; willing as water is willing to flow into an emptied channel. Love is pressing around us on all sides like air. Cease to resist, and instantly love takes possession. As the 15th century poem Quia amore langues says,
Long and love thou never so high,
My love is more than thine may be.
More, far more. For as His abundance of pardon passes our power to tell it, so does His abundance of love: it is far as the east is from the west, high as the heaven is above the earth. But words fail. Love soars above them all.
To look at ourselves leads to despair. Thank God, the Blood cleanseth.
If thou be foul, I shall make thee clean,
If thou be sick, I shall thee heal,
Foundest thou ever love so leal?
Never, Lord, never.