A Soul Longing for the Vision of God

I LIVE, and yet not I,
In a manner hoping
That I am dying because I am not dead.

I am not now living in myself,
And without God I cannot live ;
For without Him, I am also without myself.
This life of mine, what is it ?
A thousand deaths to me ;
For I am waiting for my very life,
Dying because I am not dead.

This life that I am living
Is a lifeless life.
And so a death continuing,
Until I come to live with Thee.

God, hear Thou my cry !
This life of mine I will it not ;

die because I am not dead.
When I am away from Thee,
What is my life to me ?
The agony of death.
None greater have I ever seen.
O, wretched that I am !
For while I am living on
I die because I am not dead.

The fish that from the water leapeth
Is not without relief ;
The death that it endures
Does end in death at last.
What death can ever equal
My misery of life ?
For I, the more I live, the more 1 die.
When I see Thee in the Sacrament
And begin to be relieved,
The absence of fruition
Creates a deeper pang ;
All brings greater pain,
And the pain is so bitter
That I am dying because I am not dead.

And if, O Lord, I have a joy
In the hope of seeing Thee ;
My sorrow is increased,
Because I fear to lose Thee.
Living in dread so great
And hoping as I hope,
I die, because I am not dead.

From this death deliver me,
O God, and give me life,
Nor let these fetters hold me ;
They are so strong :
Behold, I die to see Thee,
And in a manner hoping
That I am dying, because I am not dead.

My death I will bewail then,
And lament my life
By reason of my sins
Still here prolonged.

my God, when shall I be there
Where I may truly say,

live at last because I am not dead ?