| Ode to
Nan Min - XIII
The sun, o'erdazzling in his radiance,
Is by a fainter deputy conveyed
So mortal sight by veiled reflection sees
His greater glory in a glass displayed.
So hath our God, who to behold is death,
Sent to the world His Captain of our soul
In human form, a babe in temporal guise,
The Word made flesh, akin to actor's role.
If we are branches of this holy root
Or substitutes
till His longed for return,
Or if as candles in this naughty world
Or larval angels, God's pupae to learn,
Then would I dwell within thy moonish sphere
That radiant to mine upraised I appears.
|
