MANY sorrows hard and bitter,
Many comforts sweet and soft;
Thus my cry as joyful singing
Evermore shall mount aloft.
Song of marvelous rejoicing
As in Heaven the blessed sing,
For the love of Christ has filled me
With His sweetest plenishing.
Joy no thought of man conceiveth,
Howsoever deep his lore;
None can tell but he who hath it,
Hath it now and evermore.
Ill they spake, "Can God provide us,
Cheer amidst the wilderness?"
He a feast of joy has furnished,
Feast of sweetness, love, and bliss.
In the desert Bread He giveth,
So that naught we crave beside,
Raineth the delight of Heaven,
We are more than satisfied.
Thus my sorrow turns to music
And my cry to sweetest song;
Weeping to eternal gladness,
Night is short—the Day is long.
Richard Rolle, † 1349.