I NEED Thee, O my Food,
O Christ, for whom I pine fourteen long days—
And, as the time delays,
More sad my mood,
More faint my powers;
Like that poor Beast of fairy-tale,
Who by the fountain cowers,
Reft of his Beauty, his poor love’s avail,
By whom he lives, and, missing, dies
By inches, at the fountain, with wan eyes!

O come, my Beauty, come,
My Lord, by whom I flourish and am strong;
If I must wait so long,
And mourn so dumb,
Reach me in time,
Before I shudder into death and die!
Bow down sublime,
O Beautiful in pity, where I lie,
And rouse me, sovereign, from my woe,
Empowering me with Thy celestial glow!