Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Fletcher: Drop, drop, slow tears

Tuesday, October 25, 2011
    Commemoration of Crispin & Crispinian, Martyrs at Rome, c.285
    When a woman who had lived a sinful life in that town learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, she brought an alabaster jar of perfume, and as she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.
    —Luke 7:37-38 (NIV)
Drop, drop, slow tears, and bathe those beauteous feet
Which brought from Heaven the news and Prince of Peace.
Cease not, wet eyes, His mercies to entreat;
To cry for vengeance sin doth never cease;
In your deep floods drown all my faults and fears,
Nor let His eye see sin, but through my tears.
    ... Phineas Fletcher (1582-1650), The Spenser of his Age, J. R. Totin, 1905, p. 46 (see the book)
Quiet time reflection:
    Forgiveness, Lord, is my only hope.
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