"Ye shall indeed drink of the cup that I drink of." -- Mark x.39.

Mechthild of Hellfde, 1277.

tr., Emma Frances Bevan, 1899

Behold, My bride, how fair My mouth, Mine eyes;

My heart is glowing fire, My hand is grace --

And see how swift My foot, and follow Me.

For thou with Me shalt scorned and martyred be,

Betrayed by envy, tempted in the wilds,

And seized by hate, and bound by calumny;

And they shall bind thine eyes lest thou should'st see,

By hiding Mine eternal truth from thee.

And they shall scourge thee with the world's despite,

And shrive thee with the ban of doom and dread,

For penance thy dishonoured head shall smite,

By mockery thou to Herod shalt be led,

By misery left forlorn --

And bound by want, and by temptation crowned,

And spit upon by scorn.

The loathing of thy sin thy cross shall be,

Thy crucifixion, crossing of thy will;

The nails, obedience that shall fasten thee,

And love shall wound, and steadfastness shall slay,

Yet thou shalt love Me still.

The spear shall pierce thy heart; My life shall be

The life that lives and moves henceforth in thee.

Then as a conqueror loosened from the cross,

Laid in the grave of nothingness and loss,

Thou shalt awaken, and be borne above

Upon the breath of Mine Almighty love.