Classic Poem

WHEREIN HE REJOICES THAT HIS PRAYER IS ANSWERED

What pity-driven angel proved his speed
To swoop through middle Heaven with my appeal?
Instantly, though I hear not, I can feel
My lady's step responsive to my need;
She shines too bright for pride, being rich indeed
With rapt humility whose strength can steal
My life from Death itself, and raise and heal
Till Life goes radiant, having her to lead.
How blessed are that face, that small strong hand
Stretched out! O Christ! The little phrase! It gnaws!
But only Love and I can understand.
" Lover, your sobs run through me like a spear!
For our own sake I seemed so cruel ... because ... "
So sweet the rest, the sun would halt to hear.