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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=356173" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Love Of Christ Which Passeth Kowledge</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I bore with thee long weary days and nights,<br>Through many pangs of heart, through many tears;<br>I bore with thee, thy hardness, coldness, slights,<br>For three and thirty years.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who else had dared for thee what I have dared?<br>I plunged the depth most deep from bliss above;<br>I not My flesh, I not My spirit spared:<br>Give thou Me love for love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For thee I thirsted in the daily drouth,<br>For thee I trembled in the nightly frost: <br>Much sweeter thou than honey to My mouth:<br>Why wilt thou still be lost?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I bore thee on My shoulders and rejoiced:<br>Men only marked upon My shoulders borne<br>The branding cross; and shouted hungry-voiced,<br>Or wagged their heads in scorn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thee did nails grave upon My hands, thy name<br>Did thorns for frontlets stamp between Mine eyes:<br>I, Holy One, put on thy guilt and shame;<br>I, God, Priest, Sacrifice. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A thief upon My right hand and My left;<br>Six hours alone, athirst, in misery:<br>At length in death one smote My heart and cleft<br>A hiding-place for thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nailed to the racking cross, than bed of down<br>More dear, whereon to stretch Myself and sleep:<br>So did I win a kingdom,—share my crown;<br>A harvest,—come and reap.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Christina+Georgina+Rossetti">Christina Georgina Rossetti</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=356173" data-title="The Love Of Christ Which Passeth Kowledge de Christina Georgina Rossetti" data-description="I bore with thee long weary days and nights,
Through many pangs of heart, through many tears;
I bore with thee, thy hardness, coldness, slights,
For three and thirty years.

Who else had dared for thee what I have dared?
I plunged the depth most d..."></div>
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