O I desire no tongue nor pen
but to extol his praise;
In which excess I’ll melt away
ten thousand ways.

If we would die unto ourselves
and all things else but thee,
It would be natural to our souls
for to ascend and be

United to our center dear
to which our souls would hasten,
Being as proper then to us,
as fire to upward fly.

O let us therefore love my God;
for loves pertains to him,
And let our souls seek nothing else
but in this love to swim;

Till we absorbed by his sweet love
return from whom we came;
Where we shall melt into that love,
which joyeth me to name.

Dom Gertrude More