The faithful soul prays her beloved that He will take away the little foxes, which are numerous little defects that begin to appear; for they spoil the interior vine, which, she says, is in blossom. It is for this reason very delightful to her, and the more so as she expects soon to enjoy the ripe fruit. How wilt thou be able, poor soul, to abandon this vine to which thou art so attached, without being aware of it? Ah! the Master himself will permit the little foxes to spoil it, destroy the flowers and make strange havoc with it! Were He not to do this, thou art so in love with thyself, that thou wouldst never come forth. |