Sermons on the Song of Songs

But I remember, O Lord, my compact and Thy condescension, “that Thou mayst be justified in Thy words, and mayst overcome when Thou art judged.” Last year when we were in Viterbo, in the cause of the Church, Gerard fell ill. His sickness grew more and more serious, until it seemed now that death was at hand. I could by no means reconcile myself to the thought of leaving in a foreign land the companion of my journey, and such a companion; nor would anything content me except to restore him to the community who had entrusted him to my care, for I knew how much all loved him, who in truth was exceedingly lovable. So I betook myself to prayer, with tears and sighs. And I said to Thee, “Wait, O Lord, wait until we have returned home. When he is restored to his brethren, take him then, if it pleases Thee, and I shall not complain.” Thou didst grant my petition. Gerard recovered. We performed the task which Thou gavest us to do, and came back “with exultations, bearing the sheaves” of peace. Then I forgot our agreement, but Thou didst not forget. I am ashamed of these sobbings, which convict me of unfaithfulness. Why should I say more? Thou hast but claimed back what Thou didst lend us. Thou hast but taken what is Thine. But I am now compelled to put an end to my words by the flow of my tears. Do Thou, O Lord, I implore Thee, put an end and a limit to them.