from its own selfish operations, and the man
of sin is exterminated, its defects become more apparent, because God
wishes it to comprehend what it is by itself, and what it would be
without him. The soul is thus afflicted, believing it has lost the
virtues, acquired with so much care, and seems to have faults that it
had not before perceived. It says, with the spouse in the Canticles,
"I have washed my feet, how shall I sully them?" You do not perceive,
O, soul beloved, that you do not sully them in going to "open to the
spouse," and that if you contract some slight impurity, he will remove
it so perfectly, that you will become more beautiful. In the mean
time, it is not the desire of the spouse to become beautiful in her own
eyes, but to see only the beauty of her Lover. When the soul is
faithful in this state, and really desires to die to itself, she is
pleased only with the beauty of her Beloved, and says his beauty shall
be my beauty. But it is necessary to advance beyond this, for, after
being despoiled of her beauty, it would be a selfishness much greater
to appropriate to herself, the beauty of her Beloved. His beauty must
remain untarnished, unappropriated by her; she must leave him all, and
remain in her nothing, for the nothing is her proper place. This is
Perfect Love, which regards God alone.

SELECTIONS FROM HER POETRY.

A LITTLE BIRD I AM.

"A little bird I am,
Shut from the fields of air;
And in my cage I sit and sing
To Him who placed me there;
Well pleased a prisoner to be,
_Because, my God, it pleases thee_.

"Nought have I else to do;
I sing the whole day long;
And He, whom most I love to please,
Doth listen to my song;
He caught and bound my wandering wing,
But still he bends to hear me sing.

"Thou hast an ear to hear;
A heart to love and bless;
And, though my notes were e'er so rude,
Thou wouldst not hear the less;
Because though knowest as they fall,
That Love, sweet Love, inspires them all.

"My cage confines me round,
Abroad I cannot fly;
But, though my wing is closely bound,
My heart's at liberty.
My prison walls cannot control
The flight, the freedom of the soul.

"Oh! it is good to soar,
These bolts and bars above,
To Him whose purpose I adore,
Whose Providence I love;
And in thy mighty will to find
The joy, the freedom of the mind."

GOD EVERYWHERE, TO THE S