I found another great poem this morning, again by Yeats. He’s quickly becoming one of my favorites.
The poem is titled The Lover mourns for the Loss of Love
Pale brows, still hands and dim hair,
I had a beautiful friend
And dreamed that the old despair
Would end in love in the end:
She looked in my heart one day
And saw your image was there;
She has gone weeping away.
I love the image Yeats paints of his beautiful friend – pale brows and dim hair don’t usually get tagged as beautiful. But he does so here. I wonder why.
But more importantly, this poem got me thinking about what is in my heart – about who is in my heart. If someone looked in my heart whose face would they see?
It sounds cheesy, but this poem makes me think of Jesus – how he longs to find himself in our hearts. How it must hurt him when he doesn’t find his image there.
I think Jesus is a lover who mourns the loss of love too.
The one difference, though, is that He doesn’t go weeping away. He stays there. Always hoping. Always wooing. Always yearning to be believed and trusted and accepted and written on our hearts.
Even now, says the Lord, return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; rend your hearts, not your clothes. Return to the Lord, your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and relents from punishing. Joel 2:12-13 (Emphasis added)