A poem for Good Friday:
"O deus, ego amo te"
O God, I love thee, I love thee—
Not out of hope of heaven for me
Nor fearing not to love and be
In the everlasting burning.
Thou, thou, my Jesus, after me
Didst reach thine arms out dying,
For my sake sufferedst nails and lance
Mocked and marred countenance,
Sorrows passing number,
Sweat and care and cumber,
Yea and death, and this for me,
And thou couldst see me sinning:
Then I, why should not I love thee,
Jesu so much in love with me?
Not for heaven's sake; not to be
Out of hell by loving thee;
Not for any gains I see;
But just the way that thou didst me
I do and I will love thee:
What must I love thee, Lord, for then?—
For being my king and God. Amen.
- Gerard Manley Hopkins
(I encountered the poem this week in Sarah Arthur's Between Midnight and Dawn: A Literary Guide to Prayer for Lent, Holy Week, and Eastertide.)