THE CUP
183
downwards
.
o , Christians !
you
daily
crucify
your
Saviour , hourly
you drive
the rusty nails through His
outstretched
hands ,
O
“ maudite
race !”
“ WHOSE
GOD IS THEIR
BELLY , WHOSE
GLORY
IS IN THEIR
SHAME ,
WHO
MIND
EARTHLY
THINGS .”
Temptation
is the Armourer who tries the blade, and
Resistance
the
quality of the
steel.
How many of the
well -fed will bear the test of old Andrea
?
How many
would prove themselves
a worthy blade to Ferrara ?
Sadness
stares around us with hollow tear -drowned
eyes , and the days of our joys are wet with the weep
ing of the night of sorrow .
On , on we plod , through
life's
by -ways
and
alleys ,
through
mud
and
slime ,
onward
we must go if we are ever to win the gates of
Wisdom
and Understanding and attain the Kingdom
of the Holy Crown .
“ Self ” we must
slay , it is the
great sin of life :
“ The scorpion
kisses , and the stings
of sin , cling hard within
. " 2 The small still voice calls to
us , yet we must overcome
it , in
its
conquest
alone lies
our
salvation
.
“
Truth
”
is
our
St.
George
,
whose
sword
is
as
keen
as
his
of
“
The
Nameless
Quest
,"
and
“
Self
”
the dragon
which
we must slay
:
Central
,
supreme
,
most formidable
,
Night
Gathered
its
garments
,
drew itself apart
;
Gaunt
limbs appear
athwart
the coprolite
,
Veil the deep agony
,
display
the heart
;
Even
as
a
gloomy
sea
,
Wherein
dead fishes be
,
Poisonous
things
,
nameless
;
the eightfold
Fear
,
Misshapen
crab and worm
,
The intolerable
sperm
,
Lewd dragons
,
slime
-
built
.
Stagnant
,
the foul mere
Crawled
,
moved
,
gave tongue
,
1
Songs
of
the Spirit
,
vol
.
i,
p
.
50
.
2
Ibid
.
vol
.
i,
p
.
54
.