Jesus, Do I Love Thee?

(Lyra Eucharistica, second edition, 1864.)     Jesus, do I love Thee?     Thou art far above me,     Seated out of sight     Hid in Heavenly Light     Of most highest height.     Martyred hosts implore Thee,     Seraphs fall before Thee,     Angels and Archangels,     Cherub throngs adore Thee;     Blessed She that bore Thee!     All the Saints approve Thee,     All the Virgins love Thee.     I show as a blot     Blood hath cleansed not,     As a barren spot     In Thy fruitful lot.     I, fig-tree fruit-unbearing;     Thou, righteous Judge unsparing:     What canst Thou do more to me     That shall not more undo me?     Thy Justice hath a sound -     Why cumbereth it the ground?     Thy Love with stirrings stronger     Pleads - Give it one year longer.     Thou giv'st me time: but who     Save Thou shall give me dew;     Shall feed my root with Blood,     And stir my sap for good?     Oh, by Thy Gifts that shame me,     Give more lest they condemn me:     Good Lord, I ask much of Thee,     But most I ask to love Thee;     Kind Lord, be mindful of me,     Love me, and make me love Thee.