The Dark Night of the Soul by St. John Of The… | Poetry Foundation

it was also used by one of her favourite martyr-saints—the now Blessed Théophane Vénard. On the manuscript of her Autobiography she set the title: "The Story of the Springtime of a little white Flower," and in truth such it was, for long ere the rigours of life's winter came round, the Flower was blossoming in Paradise.

I sunk into a fit. O that this grateful oblivion had lasted for ever! Too quickly I recovered my senses. The power of distinct vision was no sooner restored to me, than this hateful form again presented itself, and I once more relapsed. A second time, untoward nature recalled me from the sleep of death. I found myself stretched upon the bed.

At other times, you will find sorrow moving through you, like a dark mist over a landscape. This sorrow is dark enough to paralyse you.