Eucharius!
you walked blithely when you stayed
with the Son of God,
touching him, watching
his miracle-working.
You loved him with a perfect love
when terror fell on your friends —
who being human had no
strength to bear the brightness
of the good.
But you — in the blaze of utmost love —
drew him to your heart
when you gathered the sheaves
of his precepts.
Eucharius!
when the Word of God possessed you
in the blaze of the dove,
when the sun rose in your spirit,
you founded a church in your bliss.
Daylight shimmers in your heart
where three tabernacles stand
on a marble pillar
in the city of God.
In your preaching Ecclesia
savors old wine with new —
a chalice twice hallowed.
And in your teaching Ecclesia
argued with such force
that her shout rang over the mountains,
that the hills and the woods might bow
to suck her breasts.
Pray for this company now,
pray with resounding voice
that we forsake not Christ
in his sacred rites,
but become before his altar
a living sacrifice.