Give me my scallop-shell of quiet,
My staff of faith to walk upon,
My script of joy, immortal diet,
y bottle of salvation.
My gown of glory, hopes true gauge,
And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.

~Sir Walter Raleigh

A hiker, walking for pleasure, likes to choose between several alluring trails.
The pilgrim desires only the road that leads home.

~Frank W. Boreham

Saturday, April 23, 2011

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered, was all for sinners' gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior! 'Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favor, vouchsafe to me Thy Grace...

What language can I borrow to thank Thee, dearest friend.
For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever, and should I fainting be,
Lord , let me never, never, outlive my love to Thee....
~Bernard of Clairvaux, trans. Paul Gerhardt.


  1. The last line, "Lord, let me never, never, outlive my love to Thee...."
    I have not before seen such an inner thought of mine put so well

  2. Last verse has always been my favorite.