Chapter IV: Church Festivals

A CHRISTMAS COMMUNION HYMN

(After the Meditation for Communion on Christmas Day in _Eucharistica_)

Welcome, thrice blessed day! thrice blessed hour!
To hail you, every heart to Heaven is climbing,
The while the snow in softly circling shower
Draws down to meet them 'mid the joybell's chiming;
Like blessed morsels of that manna bread
Wherewith of old the Lord His People fed.

Welcome, dear dawn! if now no Angel Song
With sudden ravishing acclaim salute thee,
Yet everywhere Our Church's white-robed throng
Shall to thy first exultancy transmute thee.
Peace and Good Will again with holy mirth
Proclaiming to the Universal Earth.

Then, too, my soul, forth summoning all thy powers,
Thyself from worldly schemes and wishes sunder,
To worship and admire this hour of hours
That is all miracle and the height of wonder;
Infinity itself shrinks to a span,
Since God, remaining God, becometh Man.

Here is a mother with no mortal mate!
Here is a son that hath no earthly father!
A graft, on Adam's stock incorporate,
Who yet therefrom no mortal taint can gather!
A Babe to whom a new and glorious Star
Earth's Wisest Kings for worship draws from far.

All hail! then, sweetest Saviour, thrice all hail!
The King of Kings, by David's prophesying;
Yet on no royal couch Thy first weak wail
Awoke, for in a manger Thou wast lying:
Still for that condescension more a King
Than having all the whole world's wealth could bring.

Thus with Earth's humblest brothering thy estate,
Thus to Earth's mightiest giving meek example,
The lowly Thou exaltest to be great,
The proud thou teachest on their pride to trample.
So, turning poor men rich and rich men poor,
For each Thou makest his salvation sure.

A CHRISTMAS CAROL OF THE EPIPHANY

Now who are these who from afar
Follow yon solitary star?
Whence journey they and what the quest
That turns their faces towards the west?

Three Kings are they and Mages three,
Who in their camel company,
With offerings rich, still onward press,
Across the wintry wilderness.

Nine months agone, Isaiah's page
They pondered o'er with questioning sage,
When underneath their wondering eyes
His words were altered in this wise:

"Behold a Virgin hath conceived!"
They saw, and marvelled, and believed,
And hasted forth upon the morn
To greet the King that should be born.

Afar they fared by land and flood,
The while they saw, with bounding blood,
A star that did all stars exceed
In wonder still their footsteps lead.

Until, amid the falling snow,
They found the Highest laid most low;
His palace but a cattle shed,
A manger for His princely bed.

And there they bent with holy joy
And hope before the new-born Boy;
And opened, at His infant feet,
Their royal offerings rich and sweet.

A FOURTEENTH-CENTURY CAROL

When God came down on Earth to dwell,
Great cold befell:
Yet Mary on the road hath seen
A fig-tree green.
Said Joseph: "O Mary, let the fruit hang;
For thirty good mile we have still to gang,
Lest we be late!"

When Mary unto a village door
At last did win,
She thus bespake the cottager:
"Sir, take us in!
Since for this young Child's tender sake
A pitying heart must surely ache,
The night's so cold."

"You're welcome all to my ox-stall!"
The good man cried.
But in the middle of the night
He rose and sighed:
"Where are ye now, poor hapless ones?
That ye're not frozen to the bones,
I marvel much."

Then back into his house he runs
From forth the byre--
"Rouse up, rouse up, my dearest wife,
And light a fire,
As fine as ever sent up smoke,
Whereat these poor and perishing folk
May comfort them."

Mary with joy into the house
The Babe has brought,
Joseph her just and faithful spouse,
His wallet sought.
Therefrom he took a kettle small;
Some snow the Child therein let fall,
And lo 'tis flour!

Thereto the Babe has added ice;
'Tis sugar straight!
Now water drops, and, in a trice,
'Tis milk most sweet!
The kettle, fast as you could look,
They hung upon the kitchen hook
A meal to cook.

The godly Joseph carved a spoon
From out a brand;
To ivory it changed full soon
And adamant.
When Mary gave the Babe the food,
He became Jesus, Son of God.
Before their eyes.

EARTH'S EASTER

She the long sought for and sighed for in vain, the enchantress immortal--
Spring, in our very despair, out of inviolate air
Charioting summons the Eastern gate; the obedient portal
Opes, and a vision blest yields to the wondering West.

High on her crystal car she trembles in halycon tissues,
Gently with golden curb checking her coursers superb--
All her ethereal beauty elate with Love's infinite issues,
Whilst this enchantment slips forth from her sibylline lips:
"Herb and tree in your kinds, free lives of the mountain and forest,
Shoals of the stream and the flood, flights of the welkin and wood,
Herd and flock of the field, and ye, whose need is the sorest,
Suffering spirits of men, lo! I am with you again.
Fear no more for the tyrant hoar as he rushes to battle
Armoured in ice, and darts lance after lance at your hearts,
Fear not his flaming bolts as they hurtle with horrible rattle
Out of the lurid inane fulminant over the plain.
Fear not his wizardry white that circles and circles and settles
Stealthily hour by hour, feathery flower upon flower,
Over the spell-bound sleeper, till last the pitiless petals
Darkly in icy death stifle his labouring breath.

"Late upon yon white height the despot his fugitives rallied,
Deeming the crest snow-crowned still inaccessibly frowned;
Idly, for instant upon him my bright-speared chivalry sallied,
Smote and far into the North swept him discomfited forth,
Therefore, from root unto hole, from hole into burgeoning branches,
Tendril and tassel and cup now let the ichor leap up:
Therefore, with flowering drift and with fluttering bloom avalanches,
Snowdrop and silver thorn laugh baffled winter to scorn;
Primrose, daffodil, cowslip, shine back to my shimmering sandals,
Hyacinth host, o'er the green flash your cerulean sheen,
Lilac, your perfumed lamps, light, chestnut, your clustering candles,
Broom and laburnum, untold torches of tremulous gold!
Therefore gold-gather again from the honeyed heath and the bean field,
Snatching no instant of ease, bright, multitudinous bees!
Therefore, ye butterflies, float and flicker from garden to green field,
Flicker and float and stay, settle and sip and away!

"Therefore race it and chase it, ye colts, in the emerald meadow!
Round your serious dams frisk, ye fantastical lambs!
Therefore, bird unto bird, from the woodland's wavering shadow
Pipe and 'plain and protest, flutter together and nest.

"Therefore, ye skylarks, in shivering circle still higher and higher
Soar, and the palpitant blue drench with delirious dew.
Therefore, nightingale, lost in the leaves, or lone on the brier,
Under the magic moon lift your tumultuous tune.
Therefore refresh you, faint hearts, take comfort, ye souls sorrow-stricken,
Winning from nature relief, courage and counsel in grief,
Judging that He, whose handmaid I am, out of death to requicken
Year after year His earth into more exquisite birth,
Shadows thereby to your souls through what drear and perilous places
Into what Paradise blest beacons His searching behest--
Even the Heaven of Heavens where fond, long-hungered-for faces
Into your own shall shine radiant with rapture divine."

EASTER DAY, 1915

I

The stars die out on Avon's watchful breast,
While simple shepherds climb through shadows grey,
With beating bosoms up the Wrekin's Crest
To see the sun "dance in" an Easter Day
Whose dawning consummates three centuries--
Since Shakespeare's death and entrance to the skies--
Resolved the radiant miracle not to miss
Reserved alone to earliest opened eyes.
We, too, with faces set towards the East,
Our joyful orison offerings yielding up
Keep with our risen Lord His Pascal feast
From Paten Blest and Consecrated Cup,
And give Him thanks Who of all realms of Earth
Made England richest by her Shakespeare's birth.

II

"St. George for Merrie England!" let us cry
And each a red rose pin upon his breast,
Then face the foe with fearless front and eye
Through all our frowning leaguer in the West.
For not alone his Patron Day it is
Wherefrom our noble George hath drawn his name;
Three centuries and a half gone by ere this;
By Shakespeare's birth it won a second fame.
A greater glory is its crown to-day
Since at its first and faintest uttered breath
A mighty angel rolled the stone away
That sealed His tomb Who captive now leads death,
And thereby did the great example give.
That they who die for others most shall live.

THE ASCENSION

When Christ their Lord, to Heaven upraised,
Was wafted from the Apostles' sight,
And upwards wistfully they gazed
Into the far, blue Infinite,
Behold two men in white apparel dressed
Who thus bespake them on the mountain crest:

"Why stand ye, men of Galilee,
So sadly gazing on the skies?
For this same Jesus, whom ye see
Caught in the clouds to Paradise,
Shall in like manner from the starry height
Return again to greet your joyful sight."

Would, O Lord Jesus! thus to hear
Thy farewell words we too had met,
Among Thine own Disciples dear,
Upon the brow of Olivet!
Yet are we blest, though of that joy bereaved,
Who having seen Thee not, have yet believed.

O, then in each succeeding year
When Thine Ascension Day draws round,
With hearts so full of holy fear
May we within Thy Church be found,
That in the spirit we may see Thee rise
And bless us with pierced hands from out the skies!

Christ, if our gaze for ever thus
Is fixed upon Thy Heavenward way,
Death shall but bring to each of us
At last his soul's Ascension Day,
Till in Thy mercy Thou descend once more
And quick and dead to meet Thy coming soar.

WHITSUNTIDE

When Christ from off the mountain crest
Before their marvelling eyes,
Whilst His disciples still He blessed,
Was caught into the skies--
The Angels, whose harmonious breath
Erstwhile proclaimed His birth,
Now hailed Him Victor over Death,
Redeemer of the Earth;
"Lift up your heads, ye Heavenly Gates!"
Rang forth their joyful strain;
"For lo! the King of Glory waits
To enter you again!"

Thus, heralded, from Heaven to Heaven
Magnifical He goes,
Until the last of all the seven
To greet His coming glows;
While He the Eternal long left lone
To meet Him doth upstand,
Then sets His Son upon the Throne
Once more at His right hand.
Whereat with one triumphal hymn
Majestically blent
The Cherubim and Seraphim
The Universe have rent.
Last, from the splendrous mercy seat,
Of Father and of Son,
To Earth, their purpose to complete,
Descends the Promised One.

Like to a mighty rushing wind
He falls, subduing space,
To where Christ's chosen with one mind
Are gathered in one place.
With tongues of flame He lights on each,
Whose wonder-working spell
Fires them in every human speech
Heaven's message forth to tell.
The coward brood of doubt and fear
And hesitance are fled;
Before the quickening Comforter
They rise as from the dead.
The bolted door is yawning wide,
The barred gate backward flung;
And forth unarmed and fearless-eyed,
They fare their foes among.

HARVEST HYMN

CAST THY BREAD UPON THE WATERS

O ye weeping sons and daughters,
Trust the Heavenly Harvest Giver,
Cast your bread upon the waters
Of His overflowing river;
Cast the good seed, nothing doubting
That your tears shall turn to praise,
Ye shall yet behold it sprouting
Heavenward, after many days.

Hope and love, long frost-withholden,
Into laughing life upleaping,
Blade and ear, from green to golden,
Yet shall ripen for your reaping;
Till some radiant summer morrow,
Wheresoe'er your sickle cleaves,
Ye, who sow to-day in sorrow,
Shout for joy amid your sheaves.

O then, learn the inmost meaning
Of your harvest's rich redundance,
Bid the famished ones come gleaning
In the fields of your abundance;
So in overrunning measure
Shall your thankful fellow-men
Give you, of their hearts' hid treasure,
All your good gifts back again.

Till, ye faithful sons and daughters,
God your golden lives deliver,
Like the good grain to the waters
Of death's overflowing river;
Till up-caught amid His sleepers,
Heavenly fruit from earthly loam,
At the last, His angel reapers
On their bosoms bear you home.