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THE CHASE

Is. xli. 17.

          O Lord, the most fair, the most tender,
               My heart is adrift and alone;
          My heart is aweary and thirsty--
               Athirst for a joy unknown.
          From a child I have followed it--chased it,
               By wilderness, wold, and hill--
          I never have reached it or seen it,
               yet must I follow it still.
          
          In those olden years did I seek it
               In the sweet fair things around,
          But the more I sought and I thirsted,
               The less, O my Lord, I found.
          When nearest it seemed to my grasping,
               It fled like a wandering thought;
          I never have known what it is, Lord--
               Too well know I what it is not.
          
          "It is I, it is I, the Eternal,
               Who chose thee Mine own to be--
          Who chose thee before the ages--
               Who chose thee eternally.
          I stood in the way before thee,
               In the ways thou wouldest have gone;
          For this is the mark of My chosen,
               That they shall be Mine alone."

H. Suso.


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