A Spiritual Canticle of the Soul and the Bridegroom ChristThe stanzas, the argument and the explanation

The bride.

Where hast Thou hidden Thyself,
And abandoned me in my groaning, O my Beloved?
Thou hast fled like the hart,
Having wounded me.
I ran after Thee, crying; but Thou wert gone,

Ii.
O shepherds, you who go |
Through the sheepcots up the hill,
If you shall see Him
Whom I love the most,
Tell Him I languish, suffer, and die.
Til
In search of my Love
I will go over mountains and strands;
I will gather no flowers,
I will fear no wild beasts;
And pass by the mighty and the frontiers.

Iv.

O groves and thickets Planted by the hand of the Beloved; O verdant meads Enamelled with flowers, Tell me, has He passed by you?

Answer OF THE CREATURES A thousand graces diffusing He passed through the groves in haste, And merely regarding them As He passed Clothed them with His —

Wa.

The bride.

Oh! who can heal me? Give me at once Thyself, Send me no more A messenger Who cannot tell me what I wish.

Vii.

All they who serve are telling me Of Thy unnumbered graces; And all wound me more and more, And something leaves me dying, I know not what, of which they are darkly speaking.

Viii.

But how thou perseverest, O life,
Not living where thou livest;
The arrows bring death
Which thou receivest
From thy conceptions of the Beloved.
Ix

Why, after wounding This heart, hast Thou not healed it? And why, after stealing it, Hast Thou thus abandoned it. And not carried away the stolen prey?

Quench Thou my troubles, For no one else can soothe them; And let mine eyes behold Thee, For thou art their light, And I will keep them for Thee alone.

Xi.

Reveal Thy presence, And let the vision and Thy beauty kill me. Behold the malady Of love is incurable Except in Thy presence and before Thy face,

Xii.

O crystal well! Oh that on Thy silvered surface Thou wouldest mirror forth at once Those eyes desired Which are outlined in my heart!

Xiii.

Turn them away, O my Beloved!
I am on the wing 3. THE BRIDEGROOM
Return, My Dove!
The wounded hart
Looms on the hill
In the air of thy flight and is refreshed.

Xiv.

The bride.

My Beloved is the mountains, The solitary wooded valleys, The strange islands, The roaring torrents, The whisper of the amorous gales;

The tranquil night At the approaches of the dawn, The silent music, The murmuring solitude, The supper which revives, and enkindles love.

Xvi.

Catch us the foxes, For our vineyard hath flourished; While of roses We make a nosegay, And let no one appear on the hill,

Xvii.

O killing north wind, cease! Come, south wind, that awakenest love! Blow through my garden, And let its odours flow, And the Beloved shall feed among the flowers,

Xviii.

O nymphs of Judea! While amid the flowers and the rose-trees The amber sends forth its perfume, Tarry in the suburbs, And touch not our thresholds,

Xix.

Hide thyself, O my Beloved! Turn Thy face to the mountains.
Do not speak,

But regard the companions Of her who is travelling amidst strange islands.

Xx.

The bridegroom.

Light-winged birds, Lions, fawns, bounding does, Mountains, valleys, strands, Waters, winds, heat, And the terrors that keep watch by night;

Xxi.

By the soft lyres And the siren strains, I adjure you, Let your fury cease, And touch not the wall, That the bride may sleep in greater security,

Xxii.

The bride has entered The pleasant and desirable garden, And there reposes to her heart’s content; Her neck reclining On the sweet arms of the Beloved.

Xxiii.

Beneath the apple-tree There wert thou betrothed; There I gave thee My hand, And thou wert redeemed Where thy mother was corrupted. Io

Xxiv.

The BRIDE Our bed is of flowers By dens of lions encompassed, Hung with purple, Made in peace, And crowned with a thousand shields of gold.

Xxv.

In Thy footsteps The young ones run Thy way; At the touch of the fire And by the spiced wine, The divine balsam flows. XXVI. In the inner cellar Of my Beloved have I drunk; and when I went forth Over all the plain I knew nothing, And lost the flock I followed before, XXVII. There He gave me His breasts, There He taught me the science full of sweetness, And there I gave to Him Myself without reserve; There I promised to be His bride. XXVIII. My soul is occupied, And all my substance in His service; Now I guard no flock, Nor have I any other employment: My sole occupation is love.

Xxix.

‘If, then, on the common land I am no longer seen or found, You will say that I am lost; That, being enamoured, I lost myself; and yet was found,

Xxx.

Of emeralds, and of flowers In the early morning gathered, We will make the garlands, Flowering in Thy love, And bound together with one hair of my head,

Xxxi.

By that one hair Thou hast observed fluttering on my neck, And on my neck regarded, Thou wert captivated; And wounded by one of my eyes.

Xxxii.

When Thou didst regard me, Thine eyes imprinted in me Thy grace: For this didst Thou love me again, And thereby mine eyes did merit To adore what in Thee they saw

Xxxii.

Despise me not, For if I was swarthy once Thou canst regard me now; Since Thou hast regarded me, Grace and beauty hast Thou given me.

Xxxiv.

The BRIDEGROOM The little white dove Has returned to the ark with the bough; And now the turtle-dove Its desired mate On the green banks has found.

Xxxv.

In solitude she lived, And in solitude built her nest; And in solitude, alone Hath the Beloved guided her, In solitude also wounded with love.

Xxxvi.

The bride.

Let us rejoice, O my Beloved! Let us go forth to see ourselves in Thy beauty. To the mountain and the hill, Where the pure water flows: Let us enter into the heart of the thicket.

Xxxvii.

We shall go at once To the deep caverns of the rock Which are all secret, There we shall enter in And taste of the new wine of the pomegranate,

Xxxviii.

There thou wilt show me That which my soul desired; And there Thou wilt give at once, O Thou, my life! That which Thou gavest me the other day.

Xxxix.

The breathing of the air,
The song of the sweet nightingale,
The grove and its beauty
In the serene night,
With the flame that consumes, and gives no pains.

Xl.
None saw it;
Neither did Aminadab appear.
The siege was intermitted,
And the cavalry dismounted
At the sight of the waters.

Argument.

These stanzas describe the career of a soul from its first entrance on the service of God till it comes to the final state of perfection—the spiritual marriage. They refer accordingly to the three states or ways of the spiritual training—the purgative, illuminative, and unitive ways, some properties and effects of which they explain,

The first stanzas relate to beginners—to the purgative way. The second to the advanced—to the state of spiritual betrothal; that is, the illuminative way. The next to the unitive way—that of the perfect, the spiritual marriage. The unitive way, that of the perfect, follows the illuminative, which is that of the advanced. The last stanzas treat of the beatific state, which only the already perfect soul aims at.

Explanation of the stanzas.

Note.

The soul, considering the obligations of its state, seeing that ‘the days of man are short ;’ * that the way of eternal life is strait; | that ‘the just man shall scarcely be saved ;’ { that the things of this world are empty and deceitful; that all die and perish like water poured on the ground; § that time is uncertain, the last account strict, perdition most easy, and salvation most difficult; and recognising also, on the other hand, the great debt that is owing to God, Who has created it solely for Himself, for which the service of its whole life is due, Who has redeemed it for Himself alone, for which it owes Him all else, and the correspondence of its will to His love; and remembering other innumerable blessings for which it acknowledges itself indebted to God even before it was born: and also that a great part of its life has been wasted, and that it will have to render an account of it all from beginning unto the end, to the payment of ‘the last farthing,’ || when God shall ‘search Jerusalem with lamps ;’ § that it is already late, and perhaps the end of the day: “in order to remedy so great an evil, especially when it is conscious that God is grievously offended, and that He has hidden His face from it, because it would forget Him for the creature,—the soul, now touched with sorrow and inward sinking of the heart at the sight of its imminent risks and ruin, renouncing everything and casting them aside without delaying for a day, or even an hour, with fear and groanings uttered from the heart, and wounded with the love of God, begins to invoke the Beloved and says: