I found it yesterday in an old magazine.
It spoke to me then. It speaks for me now.
Today, a “guest post” of sorts, by Gerhard Tersteegen, eighteenth century man of God:
Allured into the desert,
With God alone, apart,
There spirit meeteth spirit,
There speaketh heart to heart.
Far, far on that untrodden shore,
God’s secret place I find;
Alone I pass the golden door,
The dearest left behind.
There God and I—none other;
Oh, far from men to be!
Nay, midst the crowd and tumult,
Still, Lord, alone with Thee.
Still folded close upon Thy breast,
In field, and mart, and street,
Untroubled in that perfect rest,
That isolation sweet.
O God, Thou art far other
Than men have dreamed and taught,
Unspoken in all language,
Unpictured in all thought.
Thou God art God—he only learns
What that great Name must be,
Whose raptured heart within him burns,
Because he walks with Thee.
Stilled by that wondrous Presence,
That tenderest embrace,
The years of longing over,
Do we behold Thy Face;
We seek no more than Thou hast given,
We ask no vision fair,
Thy precious Blood has opened Heaven,
And we have found Thee there.
O weary souls, draw near Him;
To you I can but bring
One drop of that great ocean,
One blossom of that spring;
Sealed with His kiss, my lips are dumb,
My soul with awe is still;
Let him that is athirst but come,
And freely drink his fill.
—Gerhard Tersteegen
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WOW. Never have read this before. very powerful. I plan to copy it and reread it again. Thanks
That’s the way it affected me, too, Jean. God bless it to our lives. Thanks for visiting and commenting.
Sylvia–I so love the old writers. They use words so well. I’ve been reading George Herbert lately and you’ve inspired me to include him in a post.
Thanks for sharing this lovely poem–especially these lines:
“Thy precious Blood has opened Heaven,”
oh, He is good.
Jody,
I do too! The words, the thought, the content, are often so rich and deep. And I do like them in the original, because the new “reprints” “edited for the modern reader” tend to lose the beauty, the author’s personal style, and often the content doesn’t even end up the same. Glad to find a fellow “dead poet” lover. (But these poets aren’t dead, are they? 🙂 )
I didn’t know George Herbert, though, till now, when I just went and looked him up. Read one sample poem, which I liked. I look forward to seeing what you share from his work!