1. Our Lord excites the love of His spouse.2. The wound of love.3. The pain it causes.4. The call of the Bridegroom.5. Effect on the soul.6. A spark of the fire of love.7. The spark dies out.8. This grace evidently divine.9. One such wound repays many trials.10. First reason of immunity from deception.11. Second and third reasons.12. The imagination not concerned in it.13. St. Teresa never alarmed at this prayer.14. The odour of Thine ointment.' 15. No reason to fear deception here.
1. IT seems as if we had deserted the little dove for a long time, but this is not the case, for these past trials cause her to take a far higher flight. I will now describe the way in which the Spouse treats her before uniting her entirely to Himself. He increases her longing for Him by devices so delicate that the soul itself cannot discern them; nor do I think I could explain them except to people who have personally experienced them. These desires are delicate and subtle impulses springing from the inmost depths of the soul; I know of nothing to which they can be compared.
2. These graces differ entirely from anything we ourselves can gain, and even from the spiritual consolation before described.  In the present case, even when the mind is not recollected or even thinking of God, although no sound is heard, His Majesty arouses it suddenly as if by a swiftly flashing comet or by a clap of thunder.  Yet the soul thus called by God hears Him well enough -- so well, indeed, that sometimes, especially at first, it trembles and even cries out, although it feels no pain. It is conscious of having received a delicious wound but cannot discover how, nor who gave it, yet recognizes it as a most precious grace and hopes the hurt will never heal.
3. The soul makes amorous complaints to its Bridegroom, even uttering them aloud; nor can it control itself, knowing that though He is present He will not manifest Himself so that it may enjoy Him. This causes a pain, keen although sweet and delicious from which the soul could not escape even if it wished; but this it never desires.  This favour is more delightful than the pleasing absorption of the faculties in the prayer of quiet which is unaccompanied by suffering. 
4. I am at my wits' end, sisters, as to how to make you understand this operation of love: I know not how to do so. It seems contradictory to say that the Beloved clearly shows He dwells in the soul and calls by so unmistakable a sign and a summons so penetrating, that the spirit cannot choose but hear it, while He appears to reside in the seventh mansion. He speaks in this manner, which is not a set form of speech, and the inhabitants of the other mansions, the senses, the imagination and the faculties, dare not stir. 
5. O Almighty God! how profound are Thy secrets and how different are spiritual matters from anything that can be seen or heard in this world! I can find nothing to which to liken these graces, insignificant as they are compared with many others Thou dost bestow on souls. This favour acts so strongly upon the spirit that it is consumed by desires yet knows not what to ask, for it realizes clearly that its God is with it. You may inquire, if it realizes this so clearly, what more does it desire and why is it pained? What greater good can it seek? I cannot tell: I know that this suffering seems to pierce the very heart, and when He Who wounded it draws out the dart He seems to draw the heart out too, so deep is the love it feels. 
6. I have been thinking that God might be likened to a burning furnace  from which a small spark flies into the soul that feels the heat of this great fire, which, however, is insufficient to consume it. The sensation is so delightful that the spirit lingers in the pain produced by its contact. This seems to me the best comparison I can find, for the pain is delicious and is not really pain at all, nor does it always continue in the same degree; sometimes it lasts for a long time; on other occasions it passes quickly. This is as God chooses, for no human means can obtain it; and though felt at times for a long while, yet it is intermittent.
7. In fact it is never permanent and therefore does not wholly inflame the spirit; but when the soul is ready to take fire, the little spark suddenly dies out, leaving the heart longing to suffer anew its loving pangs. No grounds exist for thinking this comes from any natural cause or from melancholy, or that it is an illusion of the devil or the imagination. Undoubtedly this movement of the heart comes from God Who is unchangeable; nor do its effects is resemble those of other devotions in which the strong absorption of delight makes us doubt their reality.
8. There is no suspension here of the senses or other faculties: they wonder at what is happening, without impeding it. Nor do I think that they can either increase or dispel this delightful pain. Any one who has received this favour from our Lord will understand my meaning on reading this: let her thank Him fervently: there is no need to fear deception but far more fear of not being sufficiently grateful for so signal a grace. Let her endeavour to serve Him and to amend her life in every respect; then she will see what will follow and how she will obtain still higher and higher gifts.
9. A person on whom this grace was bestowed passed several years without receiving any other favour, yet was perfectly satisfied, for even had she served God for very many years in the midst of severe trials, she would have felt abundantly repaid. May He be for ever blessed! Amen.
10. Perhaps you wonder why we may feel more secure against deception concerning this favour than in other cases. I think it is for these reasons. Firstly, because the devil cannot give such delicious pain: he may cause pleasure or delight which appears spiritual but is unable to add suffering, especially suffering of so keen a sort, united to peace and joy of soul. His power is limited to what is external; suffering produced by him is never accompanied with peace, but with anxieties and struggles.
11. Secondly, because this welcome storm comes from no region over which Satan has control. Thirdly, because of the great benefits left in the soul which, as a rule, is resolute to suffer for God and longs to bear many crosses. It is also far more determined than before to withdraw from worldly pleasures and intercourse and other things of the same sort.
12. It is very clear that this is no fiction: the imagination may counterfeit some favours but not this, which is too manifest to leave room for doubt. Should any one still remain uncertain, let her know that hers were not genuine impulses;  that is, if she is dubious as to whether or no she experienced them, for they are as certainly perceived by the soul as is a loud voice by the ears. It is impossible for these experiences to proceed from melancholy whose whims arise and exist only in the imagination, whereas this emotion comes from the interior of the soul.
13. I may be mistaken, but I shall not change my opinion until I hear reasons to the contrary from those who understand these matters. I know some one who has always greatly dreaded such deceptions, yet could never bring herself to feel any alarm about this state of prayer. 
14. Our Lord also uses other means of rousing the soul; for instance -- when reciting vocal prayer without seeking to penetrate the sense, a person may be seized with a delightful fervour  as if suddenly encompassed with a fragrance powerful enough to diffuse itself through all the senses. I do not assert that there really is any perfume but use this comparison because it somewhat resembles the manner by which the Spouse makes His presence understood, moving the soul to a delicious desire of enjoying Him and thus disposing it to heroic acts, and causing it to render Him fervent praise.
15. This favour springs from the same source as the former, but causes no suffering here, nor are the soul's longings to enjoy God painful: this is what is more usually experienced by the soul. For the reasons already given there appears no cause here for fear, but rather for receiving it with thanksgiving.
 Mansion iv. ch. i. Life, ch. xxix. 10-15. Rel. ch. viii. 15.  The saint first wrote relampago,' flash of lightning, but afterwards altered it to 'trueno,' clap of thunder.  Rel. viii. 16. St. John of the Cross, Spiritual Cant. st. i. 22 sqq. Poems 7, 8.  Life, ch. xxix. 18.  Life, ch. xv. 1.  Ibid. ch. xxix. 17, 18.  Ibid. ch. xv, 6; xviii. 4.; xxi. 9.  Life, ch. xv. 15, 16.  Life, ch. xxix. 6-10.  Ibid. ch. xv. 12. On the matter treated by St. Teresa in this chapter, compare St. John of the Cross, Spiritual Canticle, stanza i.((circa finem), stanza ix.; The Living Flame of Love, stanza ii.
 The saint first wrote relampago,' flash of lightning, but afterwards altered it to 'trueno,' clap of thunder.
 Rel. viii. 16. St. John of the Cross, Spiritual Cant. st. i. 22 sqq. Poems 7, 8.
 Life, ch. xxix. 18.
 Life, ch. xv. 1.
 Ibid. ch. xxix. 17, 18.
 Ibid. ch. xv, 6; xviii. 4.; xxi. 9.
 Life, ch. xv. 15, 16.
 Life, ch. xxix. 6-10.
 Ibid. ch. xv. 12. On the matter treated by St. Teresa in this chapter, compare St. John of the Cross, Spiritual Canticle, stanza i.((circa finem), stanza ix.; The Living Flame of Love, stanza ii.