Spare not thy single-minded eye from me.
Deep-looking gaze the veil pierce and see
The soul of black,
Which I attempt to keep well hid from thee
And also from myself lest exposed be
The glaring lack.
Heed not the ringing cries,
The falt’ring groans, the longing eyes,
To be set free.
As when the sailors’ time
Had come to leave divine
And fearing Siren’s song, round back
Ulysses’ hand and foot to mast
With rope they lashed,
So bind me down upon your ash,
Never loosing bonds, though I ask,
Else I would dash.
Thus fixed, you have the right
To burn with cleansing light
For if myself I tried,
As Eustice clawed his hide,
Deformed by greed,
To tear much more than mere rapacity,
I’d certain, for want of will, miscarry,
Tired, spent, and slack.
O, that, transformed, I might from all sin flee
Into your patient love most joyfully
N’er to go back.