Classic Poem

Truth, I adore thee, hidden in the murk
Of symbol, wherein thou dost truly lurk.
My heart doth yield to thee without restraint;
For contemplating thee my heart doth faint.

In thee sight, taste and touch are all deceived;
Only by hearing hath my heart believed;
Whatever God's Son saith I credit, through
His word of truth; and nothing is more true.

Only his godhead hid upon the rood;
But here his manhood also doth elude;
Nathless, in both my trust and my belief,
I do entreat with the repentant thief.

I do not see thy wounds, the lance's thrust;
My God, and yet I trust in thee, I trust
Make me believe thee ever, piously;
And ever love thee, ever trust in thee.

Memorial of the death of Christ the Lord!
True bread to men, the life which doth afford;
Afford my mind to live from thee, that it
May ever know thee to be wholly sweet.

Jesus my Lord, O pious pelican,
With thy blood cleanse me, who am all unclean,
Whereof one drop were able to make whole
The sinful world entire, of all its dole.

Jesus, whom veiled I see, without discerning,
When will that slaking be of all my yearning,
That, looking on thy glory, on thy face,
I am made happy in thy dwelling place?