Only beloved! With a heart on fire
And all my longings set in one desire
To make my soul a many-stringed lyre
For Thy dear hand to play,
I bend beneath Thy mercy-seat and pray
That in the strength of perfect love I may
Tread with firm feet the red and mystic way
Whereto my hopes aspire.
I have forgotten all for love of Thee
And ask no other joy from destiny
Than to be rapt within Thy unity
And—whatso'er befall—
To hear no voice on earth but Thy sweet call,
To walk among Thy people as Thy thrall
And see Thy beauty breathing throughout all
Eternal ecstasy.
Lead me forth, Lord, amid the wide world's ways,
To bear to Thee my witness and to raise
The dawn song of the breaking day of days.
Make my whole life one flame
Of sacrificial deeds that shall proclaim
The new-born glory of Thy ancient name;
And let my death lift higher yet the same
Triumphal chant of praise!
George Townshend, circa 1924
No other words are worthy to describe, or indeed can convey an image of, the all- consuming, ever-burning fire of devotion that dominated, governed and so remarkably sustained my father's life. Driven always by a restless urge to seek, to study and later to proclaim the Day of God, he seems not to have known real contentment nor, despite the tributes paid to him, to have realised what he had done or been aware that his prayer was granted. His great humility blinded him to his achievements. He saw only unattainable goals ahead.
Born in Dublin, where his father was a well-known figure and had a large family, he won a scholarship to Uppingham School and two exhibitions to Hertford College, Oxford, where he was awarded his half-Blue for long distance running and was graduated in Classics in 1899. In 1903 he was called to the Irish Bar, having served for some time as leader writer on the staff of the Irish Times.
