ance, Thou art
altogether bright. All angels' life is to look upon Thy face, for Thy
cheer is so marvellously lovesome and pleasant to look upon.... Thou art
so bright, and so white that the sun would be pale if compared to Thy
blissful countenance. If I, then, love any man for beauty, I will love
Thee, my dear life, my mother's fairest son."[113]

The language of erotic piety figures much more prominently in Roman
Catholic medieval writings than in Protestant literature. This is not
because an appeal to the same feelings is absent from the religious
literature of Protestantism, it is mainly due to the fact that more
modern conditions leads to a less intense religious appeal, while the
broadening of social life encourages a more natural outlet for all
aspects of human nature. Still, the following expression of a young lady
convert of Wesley's offers a fair parallel to the specimen given above.
It is taken from Southey's _Life of Wesley_:--

"Oh, mighty, powerful, happy change! The love of God was shed abroad in
my heart, and a flame kindled there with pains so violent, and yet so
very ravishing, that my body was almost torn asunder. I sweated, I
trembled, I fainted, I sang. Oh, I thought my head was a fountain of
water. I was dissolved in love. My beloved is mine, and I am His. He has
all charms; He has ravished my heart; He is my comforter, my friend, my
all. Oh, I am sick of love. He is altogether lovely, the chiefest among
ten thousand. Oh, how Jesus fills, Jesus extends, Jesus overwhelms the
soul in which He lives."

The _Imitation of Christ_ has been described by more than one writer as
a manual of eroticism, and certainly the chapters "The Wonderful Effects
of Divine Love," and "Of the Proof of a True Lover," might well be cited
in defence of this view. In the following canticle of St. Francis of
Assisi it does not seem possible to distinguish a substantial difference
between it and a frankly avowed love poem:--

"Into love's furnace I am cast,
Into love's furnace I am cast,
I burn, I languish, pine, and waste.
Oh, love divine, how sharp thy dart!
How deep the wound that galls my heart!
As wax in heat, so, from above,
My smitten soul dissolves in love.
I live, yet languishing I die,
While in thy furnace bound I lie."[114]

It would certainly be possible to furnish exact parallels from volumes
of secular verse that would be strictly 'taboo' among those who fail to