by Jeanne Marie de la Motte-Guyon (1648-1717)

By sufferings only can we know
The nature of the life we live;
The temper of our souls they show,
How true, how pure, the love we give.
To leave my love in doubt would be
No less disgrace than misery!

I welcome, then, with heart sincere,
The cross my Saviour bids me take;
No load, no trial, is severe,
That’s borne or suffered for his sake:
And thus my sorrow shall proclaim
A love that’s worthy of the name.

CBMV (1963), 81

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