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Holy Verses

He who is sick with love
Whom God Himself has touched,
Finds his tastes so changed
That they fall away
Like a fevered man's
Who loathes any food he sees
And desires I-don't-know-what
Which is so gladly found.

For when once the will
Is touched by God Himself
It cannot be satisfied
Except by God;
But since His Beauty is open
To faith alone, the will
Tastes Him in I-don't-know-what
Which is so gladly found.

Tell me, then, would you pity
A man so in love,
For he takes no delight
In all of creation...

I will never lose myself
For that which the sense
Can take in here,
Nor for all the mind can hold,
No matter how lofty,
Nor for grace or beauty,
But only for I-don't-know-what
Which is so gladly found.

- St. John of the Cross