What Am I?

Aaron burnt the incense, A special blend of spice, Offering for Israel A sincere sacrifice. Tabernacle, temples, In heaven and on earth, Closets, caves, and castles— In all these I have birth. I am made in secret And sometimes openly. Either way is proper In deep humility. Not a drunken cantor, A womb would fill one day. Three of me—the answer Was that the thorn must stay. Pharisees proclaim me And make me but a lie. Publicans, breast-smitten, Will go home justified....