Truer and truer;

Nay, not It, but I!

As though It could be what It were not,

As though I were already become

what I ought be:

True.

 

“Draw me; We will run after thee to the odour of thy ointments. The king hath brought me into his storerooms: we will be glad and rejoice in thee.” (Song 1:4)

Merry Christmas!