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Thursday, April 14, 2011

Love

Trust me, I have not earn'd your dear rebuke,
I love, as you would have me, God the most;
Would lose not Him, but you, must one be lost,
Nor with Lot's wife cast back a faithless look
Unready to forego what I forsook;
This say I, having counted up the cost,
This, though I be the feeblest of God's host,
The sorriest sheep Christ shepherds with His crook.
Yet while I love my God the most, I deem
That I can never love you overmuch;
I love Him more, so let me love you too;
Yea, as I apprehend it, love is such
I cannot love you if I love not Him,
I cannot love Him if I love not you.

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Maybe to love is to make grow, and sometimes to grow, you need to let go.

3 comments :

M Pax said...

Love is beautiful :)

Angela said...

Great poem. You're a class act.

Yvonne Lim said...

Its not mine :) It's by an English poet, Christina Rossetti.