LOVE AND SACRIFICES
By: Bernard O'Dowd
CAN we not consecrate
To a man and God above
This volume of our great
A supernal tide of love?
-There wrong its wealth to waste
On merely me and you,
In selfish touch and taste,
As other lovers do.
This love is not as theirs:
It came from the Divine,
Whose glory still it wears,
And the print of the Whose design.
The world is full of woe,
The time is blurred with dust,
Illusions breed and grow,