Canticle of the Supernal Sun
There is no thing fairer on the Earth than She,
Nor any thing upon the Heaven, fairer.
Before Her splendour, does the noon-day Sun burn as the dying embers of a fire.
Madria Dea, does not Thy Spirit breathe in all created things?
Is not all darkness scattered by Thy Fire?
And but for Thee, would not all the cosmos decompose? Would not the black abyss of chaos swallow all?
And as Thine universal music reins the furthest spheres, so does it tune the beating of my heart. For as the running doe longs for the cooling streams, so is my soul athirst for Thy dear Grace; and as long as hunger brings the limbs to weakness, trembles my souls for confluence with Thee.
Have pity on my soul and end its trembling. Fill it with the good nourishment of Thy love. For there is no thing other than will cool its fever and there is no way other it shall find content.
O, let my soul be chastened by its suffering. O, let it care no longer for its pride; O, let it cry to Thee in childlike trustfulness; let it be humbled in Thy gentle Light.
Of mine own self, I can accomplish nothing;
only so far as Thou art acting through me.
How dull my soul is, like the ashes of a fire;
but, pierced through with Thine eternal rays,
is it not radiant as the noon-day sun?
There is no thing fairer on the Earth than Thee,
nor any thing upon the Heaven fairer