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XX Desire drowned my eyes and ears. My mortal mind was carried down to madness. Though she’d been taken far across the water, I saw her and I wanted to be near her. Nothing could keep me back, no one could hurt or hold me hard enough to stop me swimming across that stream or die in the attempt. But on the brink of rushing in I was called back, brought down, my dream cut short and broken. It was not to my Prince’s liking. It displeased the Prince that I should hurl myself into that sacred stream in such a state of madness. I was rash and headstrong, headlong in my haste, and soon was halted in my tracks. As I rushed toward the river-bank my racing heart awoke me from my dream. I came to in the same green garden, head upon the hill where she lay buried. Reaching out, I fell back wretched and afraid. I sighed aloud, ‘So it must end. All things lie in our Prince’s hands.’ Lord, what misery I felt to find myself an outcast from that country and its quickening brilliant beauty. Fierce sorrow seized me like a fever and I cried out in the grip of grief, ‘My pearl, so fine, so small, each word you’ve spoken in this dream of truth is powerful and precious. If all you say is true, I am content in the darkened dungeon of my sorrow to know you wear your coronet to please your Lord the Prince of Heaven.’ 53 1160 1170 1180
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If I’d only been content to do that Prince’s bidding and not asked more than I was given. If I hadn’t been so wayward as she warned, I might have seen still greater mysteries within the presence of our Lord. Always we strive for more good fortune than is due to us. And so my happiness is torn in two. I am exiled from the country of eternity. Lord, we are madmen to offend you or oppose your word. True Christians do not find it hard to serve their Lord: through all the hours of the day and night our Prince has proved a full and faithful friend. All this was granted to me here on the little hill where I lay grieving for my pearl. I commit her now to God, with Christ’s dear blessing and with mine. May the Prince who each day comes to us as bread and holy wine allow us all to be the servants of his household, to be his precious pearls. Amen. Amen. 1190 1200 1210 54

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XX

Desire drowned my eyes and ears. My mortal mind was carried down to madness. Though she’d been taken far across the water, I saw her and I wanted to be near her. Nothing could keep me back, no one could hurt or hold me hard enough to stop me swimming across that stream or die in the attempt. But on the brink of rushing in I was called back, brought down, my dream cut short and broken. It was not to my Prince’s liking.

It displeased the Prince that I should hurl myself into that sacred stream in such a state of madness. I was rash and headstrong, headlong in my haste, and soon was halted in my tracks. As I rushed toward the river-bank my racing heart awoke me from my dream. I came to in the same green garden, head upon the hill where she lay buried. Reaching out, I fell back wretched and afraid. I sighed aloud, ‘So it must end. All things lie in our Prince’s hands.’

Lord, what misery I felt to find myself an outcast from that country and its quickening brilliant beauty. Fierce sorrow seized me like a fever and I cried out in the grip of grief, ‘My pearl, so fine, so small, each word you’ve spoken in this dream of truth is powerful and precious. If all you say is true, I am content in the darkened dungeon of my sorrow to know you wear your coronet to please your Lord the Prince of Heaven.’

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