SAINT MIGUEL PRO, S.J., MARTYR
PAGE 2: HIS PRAYER POEM

Give Me Souls! ...

O Lord,
take all I have, but give me souls, I pray;
Take health and earthly goods, and even my friends' esteem;
But let zeal's flames devouring higher mount each day,
That in my heart from Thine as dim reflections gleam.

Let sorrow, loneliness, and exile compass me;
Let friends be absent when my heart is crushed with pain.
My mother's kisses take---earth's sweetest ecstasy---
But grant, dear Lord, I pray, that sinful souls I gain.

Let suffering weigh me down and dearest friends depart;
Let me not find a soothing voice to answer mine;
On life's sad way may not a sympathetic heart
Share lovingly with me my cross resembling Thine.
 
No plaint shall pass my lips if Thou with Father's hand
Wilt burden me with crosses greater than I bear;
Resigning all the joy that's found in any land,
I ask to rescue souls from every sinful snare.

This is my sole request, consuming like a flame;
I care not if my exile should be prolonged in pain.
If at such cost I can but one poor soul reclaim,
My bliss in Heaven defer---that soul I wish to gain.

Yes, Lord, for I desire all souls to Thy embrace
To bring those wandering on the way of sin.
Would that my feeble voice were strengthened by Thy grace,
So that the world entire to Thy love I could win!
 
Thy love! 'tis all I claim; it takes the place of gold,
Of glory and of pleasure, fatherland and fame.
To him who feels its warmth, all other love is cold,
And with its fire he yearns to set all hearts aflame.

O Jesus, let me share for souls the burning thirst
That on the cruel Cross for sinners Thou didst feel,
And grant that from my lips may ever sweetly burst
The words Thy Saints pronounced with glowing love and zeal.



Zeal is Thy gift, the fire from love Divine that grows
And darts from out Thy Sacred Heart as ardent flame,
The thorny crown with silent eloquence that shows
That suffering is the price if we that gift would claim.

But to a soul compared, what price is suffering?
A soul that cost the sacrifice of God Who bled?
O grant that value to my lowly offering
Be added, Jesus, from the Blood that Thou hast shed.

May my weak heart, reclining trustfully on Thine,
Burn with the love that offers Thee unceasingly,
And, on Thy Heart enkindled, may it ever shine
As Thy apostle, learning love's sweet mystery.

O Charity of God! I plunge within Thy breast,
My all in all Thou art, rich fount of every grace.
Wound me as Thou dost wish; I care not for the rest.
To Thee I've given all---myself I now efface.


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