Saturday, June 11, 2016

Love and the Child

‘Why do you so clasp me,
     And draw me to your knee?
Forsooth, you do but chafe me,
     I pray you let me be:
I will be loved but now and then
     When it liketh me!’

So I heard a young child,
     A thwart child, a young child
Rebellious against love’s arms,
     Make its peevish cry.

To the tender God I turn:—
     ‘Pardon, Love most High!
For I think those arms were even Thine,
     And that child even I.’

~Francis Thompson

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