Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life!
This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.
At the immortal touch of thy hands, my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable.
Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine. Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill.~Rabindranath Tagore
I am espoused to Him whom the angels serve. Sun and moon stand in wonder at His beauty. ~from the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Thou hast made me endless...
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