Poems (Whitney)/The passion flower

For works with similar titles, see Passion Flower.
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THE PASSION FLOWER.
The cross, the thorns, the cruel nails again!Thus opens God's diviner flower of DayTo thee, Flower-giver: was no better wayFound out, whereby thou early should'st obtain,What others seek through life-long years in vain,Peace and a large, sweet charity, than thisWhich that stern angel points thee to, whose kissOf consecration on thy brow is PAIN.I weep consenting—knowing well that soGod tempers to a more than mortal finenessO Friend, so high in sorrow—be not mindlessI keep for thee a heart-warm rest below;With hopes and human yearnings, wilt thou know?It shall not mar thy strength or thy divineness.
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