Not unto us, O Lord,
Not unto us the rapture of the day,
The peace of night, or love's divine surprise,
High heart, high speech, high deeds 'mid honouring eyes;
For at Thy word
All these are taken away.
Not unto us, O Lord:
To us thou givest the scorn, the scourge, the scar,
The ache of life, the loneliness of death,
The insufferable sufficiency of breath;
And with Thy sword
Thou piercest very far.
Not unto us, O Lord:
Nay, Lord, but unto her be all things given-
My light and life and earth and sky be blasted-
But let not all that wealth of loss be wasted:
Let Hell afford
The pavement of her Heaven!
Non Nobis
Henry Cust
(1)
Poem topics: away, breath, death, heart, heaven, light, loss, night, peace, sky, rapture, earth, wealth, speech, divine, sword, Valentine's Day, life, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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