Verse > Anthologies > The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse > 133. Forgotten among the Lilies
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Nicholson & Lee, eds.  The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse. 1917.
  
133. Forgotten among the Lilies
By Augusta Theodosia Drane  (1823–1894)
  
        I fainted away abandoned;
And amid the lilies forgottenThrew all my cares away.
(St. John of the Cross. The Obscure Night, Stanza viii)

THROUGH the dark night I wander on alone,
AND, as one blinded, grope my weary way,
Without a lamp to shed its guiding ray;
I wander on unseen, and seeing none,
And caring to behold but only One.        5
 
I see not, yet my heart will give me light,
And safer than the noonday sun will guide
To where the Bridegroom waiteth for the Bride;
So walking on in faith and not by sight,
I cannot fear but He will guide me right.…       10
 
Forgotten ’mid the lilies; for I feel
Their gentle blossoms wave above my head;
I breathe the magic perfume which they shed,
As though my bleeding wounds they fain would heal,
And from my heart its aching sorrow steal.       15
 
A sad, sweet lot—I needs must call it sweet;
My cares, like withered buds, I cast aside,
And reck but little what may next betide;
The days and years fly past on pinions fleet,
Amid these lilies crushed beneath His feet.       20
 
Forgotten and abandoned;—yet withal
Leaning my heart upon my only Love:
Nay, raise me not, I do not care to move;
Soon I shall hear His gentle footstep fall,
And lift my eyes, and answer to His call.       25
 
Till then among the lilies let me lie;
See, I have cast my idle cares away:
Howe’er it be, I am content to stay
Until once more the Bridegroom passes by,
And hither turns His gracious, pitying eye.       30
 
Blame not my folly, for I know full well
My words can nought but idle babbling seem,
The madness of a fond and foolish dream:
Bear with my folly, for the thoughts that swell
This burning heart, I cannot, dare not tell.       35
 
Know only this—I suffer, yet I rest;
For all my cares and fears are cast away,
And more than this I know not how to say;
Forgotten though I be, I own it best
And ’mid the lilies lie in perfect rest.       40

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