"This book has given me more pleasure and benefit than any book of philosophy; in it I have learned things that years of study could not have shown me." -- Blessed Edward Joannes Maria Poppe
O glorious guardian of my frame!
In heaven's high courts thou shinest bright,
As some most pure and holy flame,
Before the Lord of endless light.
Yet for my sake thou com'st to earth,
To be my brother, Angel dear:
My friend and keeper from my birth,
By day and night to me most near.
Knowing how weak a child am I,
By thy strong hand thou guidest me;
The stones that in my pathway lie,
I see thee move them carefully.
Ever thy heavenly tones invite
My soul to look to God alone;
And ever grows thy face more bright,
When I more meek and kind have grown.
O thou who speedest through all space
More swiftly than the lightnings fly!
Go very often, in my place,
To those I love most tenderly.
With thy soft touch, oh! dry their tears;
Tell them the cross is sweet to bear;
Speak my name softly in their ears,
And Jesu's name, supremely fair.
Through all my life, though brief it be,
I fain would succor souls from sin.
Dear Angel, sent from heaven to me,
Kindle thy zeal my heart within!
Naught but my holy poverty,
And daily cross to give have I;
0 join them to thine ecstasy,
And offer them to God on high.
Thine are heaven's glory and delight,
The riches of the King of kings;
The Host in our ciboriums bright
Is mine, and all the wealth pain brings.
So with the Cross, and with the Host,
And with thine aid, dear Angel Friend,
I wait in peace, on time's dark coast,
Heaven's happiness that knows no end.
February, 1897
O Mother! thou my heart's desire
Hast granted now; so hear my cry
Of gratitude and love like fire
Thy child uplifts to thee on high.
By love for God and all mankind,
By bonds of prayer and earnest will,
Thou deignest now my soul to bind
To those who Christ's last wish fulfil.
'Tis theirs through pagan lands to go,
And raise the cross of Christ on high;
'Tis mine, within the cloister low,
His slightest will to satisfy.
I long for suffering; and the cross
With strong desire my heart doth crave.
A thousand deaths were gain, not loss,
If but one soul I help to save!
For this to Carmel's hill I've come,
Myself to immolate for men.
Christ brought a fire from Heaven's high dome
I fain would light in hearts again.
Where Afric suns the desert bake,
Where Asian Su-tchen* fronts the east,
My Mother, I can help to make
Thy virginal name revered and blest.
* Countries evangelized by her "brothers," the missionaries.
My prayers shall travel every day,
As fast as mighty river rolls;
My brothers, missioned far away,
Helped here by me, shall conquer souls;
And so the pure baptismal stream
Shall make of many a Pagan child
A temple, where God's grace shall beam,
And God with man be reconciled.
Ah! might I see dear children fill
The heavenly courts where seraphs sing!
Them, by my prayers and God's sweet will,
My brothers shall to Jesus bring.
The palm my spirit longs to gain,
My brother's hand in mine shall place.
A martyr's sister! Any pain
Would seem delight to win that grace.
The fruit of our apostolate
Our longing eyes at last shall see,
When, pressing on through heaven's gate,
Our souls shall meet the saved and Thee.
Be theirs the honor of the fight,
My priestly brothers far away
Be mine, reflection of their light,
At last, in heaven's eternal day!
