By St. Thérèse of Lisieux
O happy key, since you exist
For this: you open, every day,
The prison of the Eucharist.
The God of Love is locked away!
But I can turn the mortice (for
My faith can do this wondrous thing),
Can open up the golden door,
To hide, beside my Heav’nly King.
I’d like to burn away, to be
Consumed—near God by day and night;
A steady glow of mystery,
A sanctuary lamp, alight.
What happiness is mine: I’ve flame
Within me! … Daily thus can I
Win Jesus souls, and by the same
Heart’s-fire He came to light them by.
…
Paten, I envy you as well!—
Upon you Jesus takes His rest:
May Endless Grandeur come and dwell
(Though poor the lodging) as my Guest …
Yes here in me—He doesn’t wait
Until the dusk of life I see:
He comes, and—how my joy is great!—
A living Monstrance makes of me.
…
I am (O Jesus, Holy Vine,
To whom our fruitfulness is due)
A bunch of grapes—O King Divine!—
That ought to disappear for You!
It’s in the Winepress—Suffering—
That I’ll be proving what I say:
The joy of love to which I cling
Is self-oblation, every day.
From “Collected Poems of St. Thérèse of Lisieux,” translated by Alan Bancroft
