Affliction (IV)
The Inner Ruin
The poet describes his shattered state, with thoughts like knives and inner war, and his body's forces in rebellion.
Broken in pieces, torn completely apart— Lord, don't hunt me, a thing forgotten, once a poor creature, now a wonder; a wonder tortured in the space between this world and that of grace. My thoughts are like a case of knives, wounding my heart with scattered stings of pain, just as watering cans give life to flowers.1 Nothing can control their fury while they wound and prick my soul. All my attendants are at war, abandoning their posts right in front of me. Nothing does the work of life. The elements are unleashed to fight, and while I live they press their claim.
The Cry for Grace
The poet cries out to God for help, asking that the inner conflict be dissolved, and expresses hope that his faculties will turn to service and build him toward heaven.
Oh, help me, my God! Don't let their plot kill them and me, and you as well, who are my life. Dissolve the knot, as the sun scatters by its light all the rebellions of the night.✦✦2 Then those powers that work for grief will enter your service, and day by day labor for your praise and for my relief, with care and courage building me until I reach heaven—and, much more, you.3
Read the original English
BRoken in pieces all asunder, Lord, hunt me not, A thing forgot, Once a poore creature, now a wonder; A wonder tortur'd in the space Betwixt this world and that of grace.
My thoughts are all a case of knives, Wounding my heart With scatter'd smart, As watring pots give flowers their lives. Nothing their furie can controll, While they do wound and prick my soul.
All my attendants are at strife, Quitting their place Unto my face: Nothing performs the task of life: The elements are let loose to fight, And while I live, trie out their right.
Oh help, my God! let not their plot Kill them and me, And also thee, Who art my life: dissolve the knot, As the sunne scatters by his light All the rebellions of the night.
Then shall those powers, which work for grief, Enter thy pay, And day by day Labour thy praise, and my relief; With care and courage building me, Till I reach heav'n, and much more thee.
Scripture echoes
- ↩Col.3.4;John.14.6;Gal.2.20 — When Christ, who is your life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory. John.14.6 — Jesus said to him, 'I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.' Gal.2.20 — I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.
- ↩John.1.5;Rom.13.12 — And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. Rom.13.12 — The night is far gone, and the day is at hand; let us then cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.
Notes
- 1 ↩Early modern 'smart' here means sharp, stinging pain, not cleverness; rendered as 'stings of pain'.
- 2 ↩their plot / them: in context, the speaker's warring attendants/elements (previous stanza); the plea is that their self-destructive conflict not destroy the faculties, the speaker, and God who is the speaker's life.
- 3 ↩Early modern 'pay' means employment/service (as under a master's wages), not modern 'payment' alone; rendered as 'enter your service' to keep the employment metaphor clear.
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