INFANT SORROW
My mother groaned, my father wept: / Into the dangerous world I leapt,
To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.
For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
Is God, our father dear,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
Is Man, his child and care.
For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity a human face,
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.
Then every man, of every clime,
That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,
Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace.
And all must love the human form,
In heathen, Turk, or Jew;
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell
There God is dwelling too.
My mother groaned, my father wept: / Into the dangerous world I leapt,
1 I saw a chapel all of gold / 2 That none did dare to enter in,
Earth raised up her head / From the darkness dread and drear,
Is this a holy thing to see / In a rich and fruitful land, --