Classic Poem

Jesu, no more! It is full tide;
From Thy head and from Thy feet,
From Thy hands, and from Thy side,
All the purple rivers meet.

What need Thy fair head bear a part
In showers, as if Thine eyes had none?
What need they help to drown Thy heart,
That strives in torrents of its own?

Thy restless feet now cannot go
For us and our eternal good,
As they were ever wont. What though?
They swim, alas! in their own flood.

Thy hands to give Thou canst not lift;
Yet will Thy hand still giving be.
It gives, but O itself's the gift:
It gives though bound; though bound 'tis free.