VIII

     Quick! the reptile in me shrieks,
     Not the soul.  Again; the Cross
     Burn there.  Oh! this pain it wreaks
     Rapture is:  pain is not loss. 
     Red of heat, the tooth of Death,
     White of heat, has caught my breath.

     IX

     Brand me, bite me, bitter thing! 
     Thus He felt, and thus I am
     One with Him in suffering,
     One with Him in bliss, the Lamb. 
     Red of heat, O white of heat,
     Thus is bitterness made sweet.

     X

     Now am I, who bear that stamp
     Scorched in me, the living sign
     Sole on earth—­the lighted lamp
     Of the dreadful Day divine. 
     White of heat, beat on it fast! 
     Red of heat, its shape has passed.

     XI

     Out in angry sparks they fly,
     They that sentenced Him to bleed: 
     Pontius and his troop:  they die,
     Damned for ever for the deed! 
     White of heat in vain they soar: 
     Red of heat they strew the floor.

     XII

     Fury on it! have its debt! 
     Thunder on the Hill accurst,
     Golgotha, be ye! and sweat
     Blood, and thirst the Passion’s thirst. 
     Red of heat and white of heat,
     Champ it like fierce teeth that eat.

     XIII

     Strike it as the ages crush
     Towers! for while a shape is seen
     I am rivalled.  Quench its blush,
     Devil!  But it crowns me Queen,
     Red of heat, as none before,
     White of heat, the circlet wore.

     XIV

     Lowly I will be, and quail,
     Crawling, with a beggar’s hand: 
     On my breast the branded Nail,
     On my head the iron band. 
     Red of heat, are none so base! 
     White of heat, none know such grace!

     XV

     In their heaven the sainted hosts,
     Robed in violet unflecked,
     Gaze on humankind as ghosts: 
     I draw down a ray direct. 
     Red of heat, across my brow,
     White of heat, I touch Him now.

     XVI

     Robed in violet, robed in gold,
     Robed in pearl, they make our dawn. 
     What am I to them?  Behold
     What ye are to me, and fawn. 
     Red of heat, be humble, ye! 
     White of heat, O teach it me!

     XVII

     Martyrs! hungry peaks in air,
     Rent with lightnings, clad with snow,
     Crowned with stars! you strip me bare,
     Pierce me, shame me, stretch me low,
     Red of heat, but it may be,
     White of heat, some envy me!

     XVIII

     O poor enviers!  God’s own gifts
     Have a devil for the weak. 
     Yea, the very force that lifts
     Finds the vessel’s secret leak. 
     Red of heat, I rise o’er all: 
     White of heat, I faint, I fall.