4. To My Body—A Thanksgiving
Though thou hast set me many a snare,
And cost me many a groan,
And causéd feet to slip that were
Far dearer than my own—
Though thou hast been both sword and gin
To others and to me,
Yet I recall what thou didst win
Once for my soul, and I give thanks to thee.
For once, when all my heavens fell,
And each hour that went by
Brought nearer to the pit of hell
The Dayspring which is I—
When all unheard the highest cried,
When lost were course and goal,
When hope had fled and faith had died—
Thou, even thou, didst then redeem my soul.
Thou broughtest me unto the snow,
And thou didst force through me
The pumping blood, that I might know
How fierce my flesh could be;
My flesh—till then half love, half dread—
Became an armoured tower,
To which my wounded spirit fled,
And found a refuge in its bitter hour.
Thou didst deny the healing sleep
Unless I strove all day
With thews and muscles, fierce to keep
The wolves of thought at bay;
And thou didst crown thyself with strength,
And lift thyself on high,
And free salvation win at length
For the poor soul that thought it was to die.
Redemption thou didst work for me,
And forth into the light
Crept my healed spirit, saved by thee
From all the hells of night—
And this I never shall forget,
And so I can forgive
Thy treacheries, and thank thee yet,
For ’tis through thee I have found grace to live.
And more, for I know that some day
A greater wonder thou
Shalt work for me, when thou shalt slay
What thou hast quickened now.
As once thy life did make me whole,
So once thy death shall reap
Both for thyself and for my soul
The last redemption of a long, long sleep.