John, Spiritual Canticle 1

PROLOGUE


INASMUCH as this canticle seems to have been written with somefervour of love of God, whose wisdom and love are, as is said inthe book of Wisdom, (9) so vast that they reach 'from end untoend,' and as the soul, taught and moved by Him, manifests thesame abundance and strength in the words it uses, I do notpurpose here to set forth all that greatness and fulness thespirit of love, which is fruitful, embodies in it. Yea, rather itwould be foolishness to think that the language of love and themystical intelligence--and that is what these stanzas are--can beat all explained in words of any kind, for the Spirit of our Lordwho helps our weakness--as St. Paul saith (10)--dwelling in usmakes petitions for us with groaning unutterable for that whichwe cannot well understand or grasp so as to be able to make itknown. 'The Spirit helpeth our infirmity . . . the Spirit Himselfrequesteth for us with groanings unspeakable.' For who candescribe that which He shows to loving souls in whom He dwells?Who can set forth in words that which He makes them feel? and,lastly, who can explain that for which they long?

2. Assuredly no one can do it; not even they themselves whoexperience it. That is the reason why they use figures of specialcomparisons and similitudes; they hide somewhat of that which theyfeel and in the abundance of the Spirit utter secret mysteriesrather than express themselves in clear words.

3. And if these similitudes be not received in the simplicity of aloving mind, and in the sense in which they are uttered, they willseem to be effusions of folly rather than the language of reason;as any one may see in the divine Canticle of Solomon, and inothers of the sacred books, wherein the Holy Ghost, becauseordinary and common speech could not convey His meaning, utteredHis mysteries in strange terms and similitudes. It follows fromthis, that after all that the holy doctors have said, and may say,no words of theirs can explain it; nor can words do it; and so, ingeneral, all that is said falls far short of the meaning.

4. The stanzas that follow having been written under influence ofthat love which proceeds from the overflowing mysticalintelligence, cannot be fully explained. Indeed I do not purposeany such thing, for my sole object is to throw some general lightover them, which in my opinion is the better course. It is betterto leave the outpourings of love in their own fulness, that everyone may apply them according to the measure of his spirit andpower, than to pare them down to one particular sense which is notsuited to the taste of every one. And though I do put forth aparticular explanation, still others are not to be bound by it.The mystical wisdom--that is, the love, of which these stanzasspeak--does not require to be distinctly understood in order toproduce the effect of love and tenderness in the soul, for it isin this respect like faith, by which we love God without a clearcomprehension of Him.

5. I shall therefore be very concise, though now and then unableto avoid some prolixity where the subject requires it, and whenthe opportunity is offered of discussing and explaining certainpoints and effects of prayer: many of which being referred to inthese stanzas, I must discuss some of them. I shall, however, passover the more ordinary ones, and treat briefly of the moreextraordinary to which they are subject who, by the mercy of God,have advanced beyond the state of beginners. This I do for tworeasons: the first is, that much is already written concerningbeginners; and the second is, that I am addressing those who havereceived from our Lord the grace of being led on from theelementary state and are led inwards to the bosom of His divinelove.

6. I therefore trust, though I may discuss some points ofscholastic theology relating to the interior commerce of the soulwith God, that I am not using such language altogether in vain,and that it will be found profitable for pure spirituality. Forthough some may be altogether ignorant of scholastic theology bywhich the divine verities are explained, yet they are not ignorantof mystical theology, the science of love, by which those veritiesare not only learned, but at the same time are relished also.

7. And in order that what I am going to say may be the betterreceived, I submit myself to higher judgments, and unreservedly tothat of our holy mother the Church, intending to say nothing inreliance on my own personal experience, or on what I have observedin other spiritual persons, nor on what I have heard them say--though I intend to profit by all this--unless I can confirm itwith the sanction of the divine writings, at least on thosepoints which are most difficult of comprehension.

8. The method I propose to follow in the matter is this: firstof all, to cite the words of the text and then to give thatexplanation of them which belongs to the subject before me. Ishall now transcribe all the stanzas and place them at thebeginning of this treatise. In the next place, I shall take eachof them separately, and explain them line by line, each line inits proper place before the explanation.



SONG OF THE SOUL AND THE BRIDEGROOM

I

THE BRIDE

Where hast Thou hidden Thyself,
And abandoned me in my groaning, O my Beloved?
Thou hast fled like the hart,
Having wounded me.
I ran after Thee, crying; but Thou wert gone.

II

O shepherds, you who go
Through the sheepcots up the hill,
If you shall see Him
Whom I love the most,
Tell Him I languish, suffer, and die.

III

In search of my Love
I will go over mountains and strands;
I will gather no flowers,
I will fear no wild beasts;
And pass by the mighty and the frontiers.

IV

O groves and thickets
Planted by the hand of the Beloved;
O verdant meads
Enamelled with flowers,
Tell me, has He passed by you?

V

ANSWER OF THE CREATURES

A thousand graces diffusing
He passed through the groves in haste,
And merely regarding them
As He passed
Clothed them with His beauty.

VI

THE BRIDE

Oh! who can heal me?
Give me at once Thyself,
Send me no more
A messenger
Who cannot tell me what I wish.

VII

All they who serve are telling me
Of Thy unnumbered graces;
And all wound me more and more,
And something leaves me dying,
I know not what, of which they are darkly speaking.

VIII

But how thou perseverest, O life,
Not living where thou livest;
The arrows bring death
Which thou receivest
From thy conceptions of the Beloved.

IX

Why, after wounding
This heart, hast Thou not healed it?
And why, after stealing it,
Hast Thou thus abandoned it,
And not carried away the stolen prey?

X

Quench Thou my troubles,
For no one else can soothe them;
And let mine eyes behold Thee,
For thou art their light,
And I will keep them for Thee alone.

XI

Reveal Thy presence,
And let the vision and Thy beauty kill me,
Behold the malady
Of love is incurable
Except in Thy presence and before Thy face.

XII

O crystal well!
Oh that on Thy silvered surface
Thou wouldest mirror forth at once
Those eyes desired
Which are outlined in my heart!

XIII

Turn them away, O my Beloved!
I am on the wing:


THE BRIDEGROOM

Return, My Dove!
The wounded hart
Looms on the hill
In the air of thy flight and is refreshed.

XIV

My Beloved is the mountains,
The solitary wooded valleys,
The strange islands,
The roaring torrents,
The whisper of the amorous gales;

XV

The tranquil night
At the approaches of the dawn,
The silent music,
The murmuring solitude,
The supper which revives, and enkindles love.

XVI

Catch us the foxes,
For our vineyard hath flourished;
While of roses
We make a nosegay,
And let no one appear on the hill.

XVII

O killing north wind, cease!
Come, south wind, that awakenest love!
Blow through my garden,
And let its odours flow,
And the Beloved shall feed among the flowers.

XVIII

O nymphs of Judea!
While amid the flowers and the rose-trees
The amber sends forth its perfume,
Tarry in the suburbs,
And touch not our thresholds.

XIX

Hide thyself, O my Beloved!
Turn Thy face to the mountains,
Do not speak,
But regard the companions
Of her who is travelling amidst strange islands.

XX

THE BRIDEGROOM

Light-winged birds,
Lions, fawns, bounding does,
Mountains, valleys, strands,
Waters, winds, heat,
And the terrors that keep watch by night;

XXI

By the soft lyres
And the siren strains, I adjure you,
Let your fury cease,
And touch not the wall,
That the bride may sleep in greater security.

XXII

The bride has entered
The pleasant and desirable garden,
And there reposes to her heart's content;
Her neck reclining
On the sweet arms of the Beloved.

XXIII

Beneath the apple-tree
There wert thou betrothed;
There I gave thee My hand,
And thou wert redeemed
Where thy mother was corrupted.

XXIV

THE BRIDE

Our bed is of flowers
By dens of lions encompassed,
Hung with purple,
Made in peace,
And crowned with a thousand shields of gold.

XXV

In Thy footsteps
The young ones run Thy way;
At the touch of the fire
And by the spiced wine,
The divine balsam flows.

XXVI

In the inner cellar
Of my Beloved have I drunk; and when I went forth
Over all the plain
I knew nothing,
And lost the flock I followed before.

XXVII

There He gave me His breasts,
There He taught me the science full of sweetness.
And there I gave to Him
Myself without reserve;
There I promised to be His bride.

XXVIII

My soul is occupied,
And all my substance in His service;
Now I guard no flock,
Nor have I any other employment:
My sole occupation is love.

XXIX

If, then, on the common land
I am no longer seen or found,
You will say that I am lost;
That, being enamoured,
I lost myself; and yet was found.

XXX

Of emeralds, and of flowers
In the early morning gathered,
We will make the garlands,
Flowering in Thy love,
And bound together with one hair of my head.

XXXI

By that one hair
Thou hast observed fluttering on my neck,
And on my neck regarded,
Thou wert captivated;
And wounded by one of my eyes.

XXXII

When Thou didst regard me,
Thine eyes imprinted in me Thy grace:
For this didst Thou love me again,
And thereby mine eyes did merit
To adore what in Thee they saw

XXXIII

Despise me not,
For if I was swarthy once
Thou canst regard me now;
Since Thou hast regarded me,
Grace and beauty hast Thou given me.

XXXIV

THE BRIDEGROOM

The little white dove
Has returned to the ark with the bough;
And now the turtle-dove
Its desired mate
On the green banks has found.

XXXV

In solitude she lived,
And in solitude built her nest;
And in solitude, alone
Hath the Beloved guided her,
In solitude also wounded with love.

XXXVI

THE BRIDE

Let us rejoice, O my Beloved!
Let us go forth to see ourselves in Thy beauty,
To the mountain and the hill,
Where the pure water flows:
Let us enter into the heart of the thicket.

XXXVII

We shall go at once
To the deep caverns of the rock
Which are all secret,
There we shall enter in
And taste of the new wine of the pomegranate.

XXXVIII

There thou wilt show me
That which my soul desired;
And there Thou wilt give at once,
O Thou, my life!
That which Thou gavest me the other day.

XXXIX

The breathing of the air,
The song of the sweet nightingale,
The grove and its beauty
In the serene night,
With the flame that consumes, and gives no pains.

XL

None saw it;
Neither did Aminadab appear
The siege was intermitted,
And the cavalry dismounted
At the sight of the waters.



ARGUMENT

These stanzas describe the career of a soul from its firstentrance on the service of God till it comes to the final state ofperfection--the spiritual marriage. They refer accordingly to thethree states or ways of the spiritual training--the purgative,illuminative, and unitive ways, some properties and effects ofwhich they explain.

The first stanzas relate to beginners--to the purgative way. Thesecond to the advanced--to the state of spiritual betrothal; thatis, the illuminative way. The next to the unitive way--that of theperfect, the spiritual Marriage. The unitive way, that of theperfect, follows the illuminative, which is that of the advanced.

The last stanzas treat of the beatific state, which only thealready perfect soul aims at.



EXPLANATION OF THE STANZAS

NOTE

THE soul, considering the obligations of its state, seeing that'the days of man are short;' (11) that the way of eternal life isstrait; (12) that 'the just man shall scarcely be saved;' (13)that the things of this world are empty and deceitful; that alldie and perish like water poured on the ground; (14) that time isuncertain, the last account strict, perdition most easy, andsalvation most difficult; and recognising also, on the otherhand, the great debt that is owing to God, Who has created itsolely for Himself, for which the service of its whole life isdue, Who has redeemed it for Himself alone, for which it owes Himall else, and the correspondence of its will to His love; andremembering other innumerable blessings for which it acknowledgesitself indebted to God even before it was born: and also that agreat part of its life has been wasted, and that it will have torender an account of it all from beginning unto the end, to thepayment of 'the last farthing,' (15) when God shall 'searchJerusalem with lamps;' (16) that it is already late, and perhapsthe end of the day: (17) in order to remedy so great an evil,especially when it is conscious that God is grievously offended,and that He has hidden His face from it, because it would forgetHim for the creature,Ðthe soul, now touched with sorrow andinward sinking of the heart at the sight of its imminent risksand ruin, renouncing everything and casting them aside withoutdelaying for a day, or even an hour, with fear and groaningsuttered from the heart, and wounded with the love of God, beginsto invoke the Beloved and says:



STANZA I


THE BRIDE

Where hast Thou hidden Thyself,
And abandoned me to my sorrow, O my Beloved!
Thou hast fled like the hart,
Having wounded me.
I ran after Thee, crying; but Thou wert gone.

1 IN this first stanza the soul, enamoured of the Word, the Son ofGod, the Bridegroom, desiring to be united to Him in the clear andsubstantial vision, sets before Him the anxieties of its love,complaining of His absence. And this the more so because, nowpierced and wounded with love, for which it had abandoned allthings, even itself, it has still to endure the absence of theBeloved, Who has not released it from its mortal flesh, that itmight have the fruition of Him in the glory of eternity. Hence itcries out,

'Where hast Thou hidden Thyself?'

2. It is as if the soul said, 'Show me, O Thou the Word, myBridegroom, the place where Thou art hidden.' It asks for therevelation of the divine Essence; for the place where the Son ofGod is hidden is, according to St. John, 'the bosom of theFather,' (18) which is the divine Essence, transcending all mortalvision, and hidden from all human understanding, as Isaias saith,speaking to God, 'Verily Thou art a hidden God.' (19) From this welearn that the communication and sense of His presence, howevergreat they may be, and the most sublime and profound knowledge ofGod which the soul may have in this life, are not God essentially,neither have they any affinity with Him, for in very truth He isstill hidden from the soul; and it is therefore expedient for it,amid all these grandeurs, always to consider Him as hidden, and toseek Him in His hiding-place, saying,

'Where hast Thou hidden Thyself?'

3. Neither sublime communications nor sensible presence furnishany certain proof of His gracious presence; nor is the absencethereof, and aridity, any proof of His absence from the soul. 'IfHe come to me, I shall not see Him; if He depart, I shall notunderstand.' (20) That is, if the soul have any greatcommunication, or impression, or spiritual knowledge, it must noton that account persuade itself that what it then feels is toenjoy or see God clearly and in His Essence, or that it brings itnearer to Him, or Him to it, however deep such feelings may be.On the other hand, when all these sensible and spiritualcommunications fail it, and it is itself in dryness, darkness,and desolation, it must not on that account suppose that God isfar from it; for in truth the former state is no sign of itsbeing in a state of grace, nor is the latter a sign that it isnot; for 'man knoweth not whether he be worthy of love or hatred'(21) in the sight of God.

4. The chief object of the soul in these words is not to ask onlyfor that affective and sensible devotion, wherein there is nocertainty or evidence of the possession of the Bridegroom in thislife; but principally for that clear presence and vision of HisEssence, of which it longs to be assured and satisfied in thenext. This, too, was the object of the bride who, in the divinesong desiring to be united to the Divinity of the Bridegroom Word,prayed to the Father, saying, 'Show me where Thou feedest, whereThou liest in the midday.' (22) For to ask to be shown the placewhere He fed was to ask to be shown the Essence of the DivineWord, the Son; because the Father feedeth nowhere else but in Hisonly begotten Son, Who is the glory of the Father. In asking to beshown the place where He lieth in the midday, was to ask for thesame thing, because the Son is the sole delight of the Father, Wholieth in no other place, and is comprehended by no other thing,but in and by His beloved Son, in Whom He reposeth wholly,communicating to Him His whole Essence, in the 'midday,' which iseternity, where the Father is ever begetting and the Son everbegotten.

5. This pasture, then, is the Bridegroom Word, where the Fatherfeedeth in infinite glory. He is also the bed of flowers whereuponHe reposes with infinite delight of love, profoundly hidden fromall mortal vision and every created thing. This is the meaning ofthe bride-soul when she says,

'Where hast Thou hidden Thyself?'

6. That the thirsty soul may find the Bridegroom, and be one withHim in the union of love in this life--so far as that is possible--and quench its thirst with that drink which it is possible todrink of at His hands in this life, it will be as well--since thatis what the Soul asks of Him--that We should answer for Him, andpoint out the special spot where He is hidden, that He may befound there in that perfection and sweetness of which this life iscapable, and that the soul may not begin to loiter uselessly inthe footsteps of its companions.

7. We must remember that the Word, the Son of God, together withthe Father and the Holy Ghost, is hidden in essence and inpresence, in the inmost being of the soul. That soul, therefore,that will find Him, must go out from all things in will andaffection, and enter into the profoundest self-recollection, andall things must be to it as if they existed not. Hence, St.Augustine saith: 'I found Thee not without, O Lord; I sought Theewithout in vain, for Thou art within,' (23) God is thereforehidden within the soul, and the true contemplative will seek Himthere in love, saying,

'Where hast Thou hidden Thyself?'

8. O thou soul, then, most beautiful of creatures, who so longestto know the place where thy Beloved is, that thou mayest seek Him,and be united to Him, thou knowest now that thou art thyself thatvery tabernacle where He dwells, the secret chamber of His retreatwhere He is hidden. Rejoice, therefore, and exult, because all thygood and all thy hope is so near thee as to be within thee; or, tospeak more accurately, that thou canst not be without it, 'for lo,the kingdom of God is within you.' (24) So saith the BridegroomHimself, and His servant, St. Paul, adds: 'You are the temple ofthe living God.' (25) What joy for the soul to learn that Godnever abandons it, even in mortal sin; how much less in a stateof grace! (26)

9. What more canst thou desire, what more canst thou seek without,seeing that within thou hast thy riches, thy delight, thysatisfaction, thy fulness and thy kingdom; that is, thy Beloved,Whom thou desirest and seekest? Rejoice, then, and be glad in Himwith interior recollection, seeing that thou hast Him so near.Then love Him, then desire Him, then adore Him, and go not to seekHim out of thyself, for that will be but distraction andweariness, and thou shalt not find Him; because there is nofruition of Him more certain, more ready, or more intimate thanthat which is within.

10. One difficulty alone remains: though He is within, yet He ishidden. But it is a great matter to know the place of His secretrest, that He may be sought there with certainty. The knowledge ofthis is that which thou askest for here, O soul, when with lovingaffection thou criest,

'Where hast Thou hidden Thyself?'

11. You will still urge and say, How comes it, then, that I findHim not, nor feel Him, if He is within my soul? It is because Heis hidden, and because thou hidest not thyself also that thoumayest find Him and feel Him; for he that will seek that which ishidden must enter secretly into the secret place where it ishidden, and when he finds it, he is himself hidden like the objectof his search. Seeing, then, that the Bridegroom whom thou lovestis 'the treasure hidden in the field' (27) of thy soul, for whichthe wise merchant gave all that he had, so thou, if thou wiltfind Him, must forget all that is thine, withdraw from allcreated things, and hide thyself in the secret retreat of thespirit, shutting the door upon thyself--that is, denying thy willin all things--and praying to thy Father in secret. (28) Thenthou, being hidden with Him, wilt be conscious of His presence insecret, and wilt love Him, possess Him in secret, and delight inHim in secret, in a way that no tongue or language can express.

12. Courage, then, O soul most beautiful, thou knowest now thatthy Beloved, Whom thou desirest, dwelleth hidden within thybreast; strive, therefore, to be truly hidden with Him, and thenthou shalt embrace Him, and be conscious of His presence withloving affection. Consider also that He bids thee, by the mouth ofIsaias, to come to His secret hiding-place, saying, Go, . . . enterinto thy chambers, shut thy doors upon thee'; that is, all thyfaculties, so that no created thing shall enter: 'be hid a littlefor a moment,' (29) that is, for the moment of this mortal life;forif now during this life which is short, thou wilt 'with allwatchfulness keep thy heart,' (30) as the wise man saith, God willmost assuredly give thee, as He hath promised by the prophetIsaias, 'hidden treasures and mysteries of secrets.' (31) Thesubstance of these secrets is God Himself, for He is the substanceof the faith, and the object of it, and the faith is the secretand the mystery. And when that which the faith conceals shall berevealed and made manifest, that is the perfection of God, as St.Paul saith, 'When that which is perfect is come,' (32) then shallbe revealed to the soul the substance and mysteries of thesesecrets.

13. Though in this mortal life the soul will never reach to theinterior secrets as it will in the next, however much it may hideitself, still, if it will hide itself with Moses, 'in the hole ofthe rock'--which is a real imitation of the perfect life of theBridegroom, the Son of God--protected by the right hand of God, itwill merit the vision of the 'back parts'; (33) that is, it willreach to such perfection here, as to be united, and transformed bylove, in the Son of God, its Bridegroom. So effectually will thisbe wrought that the soul will feel itself so united to Him, solearned and so instructed in His secrets, that, so far as theknowledge of Him in this life is concerned, it will be no longernecessary for it to say: 'Where hast Thou hidden Thyself?'

14. Thou knowest then, O soul, how thou art to demean thyself ifthou wilt find the Bridegroom in His secret place. But if thouwilt hear it again, hear this one word full of substance andunapproachable truth: Seek Him in faith and love, without seekingto satisfy thyself in aught, or to understand more than isexpedient for thee to know; for faith and love are the two guidesof the blind; they will lead thee, by a way thou knowest not, tothe secret chamber of God. Faith, the secret of which I amspeaking, is the foot that journeys onwards to God, and love isthe guide that directs its steps. And while the soul meditates onthe mysterious secrets of the faith, it will merit the revelation,on the part of love, of that which the faith involves, namely, theBridegroom Whom it longs for, in this life by spiritual grace, andthe divine union, as we said before, (34) and in the next inessential glory, face to face, hidden now.

15. But meanwhile, though the soul attains to union, the higheststate possible in this life, yet inasmuch as He is still hiddenfrom it in the bosom of the Father, as I have said, the soullonging for the fruition of Him in the life to come, ever cries,'Where hast Thou hidden Thyself?'

16. Thou doest well, then, O soul, in seeking Him always in Hissecret place; for thou greatly magnifiest God, and drawest nearunto Him, esteeming Him as far beyond and above all thou canstreach. Rest, therefore, neither wholly nor in part, on what thyfaculties can embrace; never seek to satisfy thyself with whatthou comprehendest of God, but rather with what thou comprehendestnot; and never rest on the love of, and delight in, that whichthou canst understand and feel, but rather on that which is beyondthy understanding and feeling: this is, as I have said, to seekHim by faith.

17. God is, as I said before, (35) inaccessible and hidden, andthough it may seem that thou hast found Him, felt Him, andcomprehended Him, yet thou must ever regard Him as hidden, serveHim as hidden, in secret. Be not thou like many unwise, who, withlow views of God, think that when they cannot comprehend Him, orbe conscious of His presence, that He is then farther away andmore hidden, when the contrary is true, namely, that He is nearerto them when they are least aware of it; as the prophet Davidsaith, 'He put darkness His covert,' (36) Thus, when thou art nearunto Him, the very infirmity of thy vision makes the darknesspalpable; thou doest well, therefore, at all times, in prosperityas well as in adversity, spiritual or temporal, to look upon Godas hidden, and to say unto Him, 'Where hast Thou hidden Thyself?

'And left me to my sorrow, O my Beloved?'

18. The soul calls Him 'my Beloved,' the more to move Him tolisten to its cry, for God, when loved, most readily listens tothe prayer of him who loves Him. Thus He speaks Himself: 'If youabide in Me . . . you shall ask what thing soever you will, and itshall be done to you.' (37) The soul may then with truth call HimBeloved, when it is wholly His, when the heart has no attachmentsbut Him, and when all the thoughts are continually directed toHim. It was the absence of this that made Delila say to Samson,'How dost thou say thou lovest me when thy mind is not with me?'(38) The mind comprises the thoughts and the feelings. Some thereare who call the Bridegroom their Beloved, but He is not reallybeloved, because their heart is not wholly with Him. Their prayersare, therefore, not so effectual before God, and they shall notobtain their petitions until, persevering in prayer, they fixtheir minds more constantly upon God and their hearts more whollyin loving affection upon Him, for nothing can be obtained from Godbut by love.

19. The words, 'And left me to my sorrow,' tell us that theabsence of the Beloved is the cause of continual sadness in himwho loves; for as such an one loves none else, so, in the absenceof the object beloved, nothing can console or relieve him. Thisis, therefore, a test to discern the true lover of God. Is hesatisfied with anything less than God? Do I say satisfied? Yea, ifa man possess all things, he cannot be satisfied; the greater hispossessions the less will be his satisfaction, for thesatisfaction of the heart is not found in possessions, but indetachment from all things and in poverty of spirit. This beingso, the perfection of love in which we possess God, by a gracemost intimate and special, lives in the soul in this life when ithas reached it, with a certain satisfaction, which however is notfull, for David, notwithstanding all his perfection, hoped forthat in heaven saying, 'I shall be satisfied when Thy glory shallappear.' (39)

20. Thus, then, the peace and tranquillity and satisfaction ofheart to which the soul may attain in this life are not sufficientto relieve it from its groaning, peaceful and painless though itbe, while it hopes for that which is still wanting. Groaningbelongs to hope, as the Apostle says of himself and others, thoughperfect, 'Ourselves also, who have the first fruits of the Spirit,even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoptionof the sons of God.' (40) The soul groans when the heart isenamoured, for where love wounds there is heard the groaning ofthe wounded one, complaining feelingly of the absence of theBeloved, especially when, after tasting of the sweet converse ofthe Bridegroom, it finds itself suddenly alone, and in aridity,because He has gone away. That is why it cries,

'Thou hast fled like the hart.'

21. Here it is to be observed that in the Canticle of Canticlesthe bride compares the Bridegroom to the roe and the hart on themountains--'My Beloved is like unto a roe and to a fawn ofharts' (41)--not only because He is shy, solitary, and avoidscompanions as the hart, but also for his sudden appearance anddisappearance. That is His way in His visits to devout souls inorder to comfort and encourage them, and in the withdrawing andabsence which He makes them feel after those visits in order totry, humble, and teach them. For that purpose He makes them feelthe pain of His absence most keenly, as the following words show:

'Having wounded me.'

22. It is as if it had said, 'It was not enough that I should feelthe pain and grief which Thy absence causes, and from which I amcontinually suffering, but Thou must, after wounding me with thearrow of Thy love, and increasing my longing and desire to seeThee, run away from me with the swiftness of the hart, and notpermit me to lay hold of Thee, even for a moment.'

23. For the clearer understanding of this we are to keep in mindthat, beside the many kinds of God's visits to the soul, in whichHe wounds it with love, there are commonly certain secret touchesof love, which, like a fiery arrow, pierce and penetrate the soul,and burn it with the fire of love. These are properly called thewounds of love, and it is of these the soul is here speaking.These wounds so inflame the will, that the soul becomes soenveloped with the fire of love as to appear consumed thereby.They make it go forth out of itself, and be renewed, and enter onanother life, as the phoenix from the fire.

24. David, speaking of this, saith, 'My heart hath been inflamed,and my reins have been changed; and I am brought to nothing, and Iknew not.' (42) The desires and affections, called the reins bythe prophet, are all stirred and divinely changed in this burningof the heart, and the soul, through love, melted into nothing,knowing nothing but love. At this time the changing of the reinsis a great pain, and longing for the vision of God; it seems tothe soul that God treats it with intolerable severity, so much sothat the severity with which love treats it seems to the soulunendurable, not because it is wounded--for it considers suchwounds to be its salvation--but because it is thus suffering fromits love, and because He has not wounded it more deeply so as tocause death, that it may be united to Him in the life of perfectlove. The soul, therefore, magnifying its sorrows, or revealingthem, says,

'Having wounded me.'

25. The soul says in effect, 'Thou hast abandoned me afterwounding me, and Thou hast left me dying of love; and then Thouhast hidden Thyself as a hart swiftly running away.' Thisimpression is most profound in the soul; for by the wound of love,made in the soul by God, the affections of the will lead mostrapidly to the possession of the Beloved, whose touch it felt, andas rapidly also, His absence, and its inability to have thefruition of Him here as it desires. Thereupon succeed the groaningbecause of His absence; for these visitations of God are not likethose which recreate and satisfy the soul, because they are ratherfor wounding than for healing--more for afflicting than forsatisfying it, seeing that they tend rather to quicken theknowledge, and increase the longing, and consequently pain withthe longing for the vision of God. They are called the spiritualwounds of love, most sweet to the soul and desirable; and,therefore, when it is thus wounded the soul would willingly die athousand deaths, because these wounds make it go forth out ofitself, and enter into God, which is the meaning of the words thatfollow:

'I ran after Thee, crying; but Thou wert gone.'

26. There can be no remedy for the wounds of love but from Him whoinflicted them. And so the wounded soul, urged by the vehemence ofthat burning which the wounds of love occasion, runs after theBeloved, crying unto Him for relief. This spiritual running afterGod has a two-fold meaning. The first is a going forth from allcreated things, which is effected by hating and despising them;the second, a going forth out of oneself, by forgetting self,which is brought about by the love of God. For when the love ofGod touches the soul with that vividness of which we are herespeaking, it so elevates it, that it goes forth not only out ofitself by self-forgetfulness, but it is also drawn away from itsown judgment, natural ways and inclinations, crying after God, 'Omy Bridegroom,' as if saying, 'By this touch of Thine and wound oflove hast Thou drawn me away not only from all created things, butalso from myself--for, in truth, soul and body seem now to part--and raised me up to Thyself, crying after Thee in detachment fromall things that I might be attached to Thee:

'Thou wert gone.'

27. As if saying, 'When I sought Thy presence, I found Thee not;and I was detached from all things without being able to cling toThee--borne painfully by the gales of love without help in Thee orin myself.Õ This going forth of the soul in search of the Belovedis the rising of the bride in the Canticle: 'I will rise and goabout the city; in the streets and the high ways I will seek HimWhom my soul loveth. I have sought Him and have not found . . .they wounded me.' (43) The rising of the bride--speakingspiritually--is from that which is mean to that which is noble;and is the same with the going forth of the soul out of its ownways and inferior love to the ennobling love of God. The bridesays that she was wounded because she found him not; (44) so thesoul also says of itself that it is wounded with love andforsaken; that is, the loving soul is ever in pain during theabsence of the Beloved, because it has given itself up whollyunto Him hoping for the reward of its self-surrender, thePossession of the Beloved. Still the Beloved withholds Himselfwhile the soul has lost all things, and even itself, for Him; itobtains no compensation for its loss, seeing that it is deprivedof Him whom it loveth.

28. This pain and sense of the absence of God is wont to be sooppressive in those who are going onwards to the state ofperfection, that they would die if God did not interpose when thedivine wounds are inflicted upon them. As they have the palate ofthe will wholesome, and the mind pure and disposed for God, and asthey taste in some degree of the sweetness of divine love, whichthey supremely desire, so they also suffer supremely; for, havingbut a glimpse of an infinite good which they are not permitted toenjoy, that is to them an ineffable pain and torment.




John, Spiritual Canticle 1