{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_27851/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_27851","id":"gutenberg_27851","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/27851","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Poetry","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Christian poetry","Christmas -- Poetry"],"text":"Produced by Bryan Ness, Louise Pattison and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nA CHRISTMAS FAGGOT\n\n\n[Illustration: THAT AT THE NAME OF JESUS EVERY KNEE SHOULD BOW [Cross]\nTO THE GLORY OF GOD THE FATHER.]\n\n\nA CHRISTMAS FAGGOT\n\nBY\n\nALFRED GURNEY, M.A.\n\nVICAR OF S. BARNABAS', PIMLICO\n\nAUTHOR OF 'THE VISION OF THE EUCHARIST AND OTHER POEMS' ETC.\n\n\n  'The Darling of the world is come,\n  And fit it is we finde a roome\n  To welcome Him. The nobler part\n  Of all the house here is the heart,\n  Which we will give Him, and bequeath\n  This hollie and this ivie wreath\n  To do Him honour who's our King,\n  The Lord of all this revelling'\n                  HERRICK, _A Christmas Carol_\n\n\nLONDON\nKEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, & CO., 1 PATERNOSTER SQUARE\n1884\n\n\n(_The rights of translation and of reproduction are reserved_)\n\n\n             _TO_\n\n        _MY GODCHILDREN_\n\n  ETHEL,               ALBINIA,\n  CYRIL,               BASIL,\n  BERTRAM,             WILFRID,\n  LOUISE,              HELEN,\n            ARTHUR.\n\n  When the Angel of the waters\n    With a gold and silver wing\n  Gently stirred the wave baptismal,\n    Heard ye not their carolling\n  Who of old to Eastern shepherds\n    Heralded their King?\n\n  To the shepherds of His people\n    Still those angel-voices tell\n  How God's river feeds the fountain\n    Opened by Emmanuel,\n  Yielding the baptismal waters\n    Of salvation's well.\n\n  Children, you have passed those waters,\n    Love-begotten from the dead;\n  Will you make a gallant promise\n    When my verses you have read--\n  'We will trace life's lovely river\n    To the Fountain-head'?\n\nLOCH LEVEN: 1884.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nMost of the following poems have appeared in the 'S. Barnabas' Parish\nMagazine.' For my godchildren and my people I have made them up into a\nlittle bundle of sticks--a Christmas faggot to feed the fires in the\nwinter palace of our King.\n\nIt is the Incarnation that justifies all joy, and song is the expression\nof joy. The Gospel Songs all celebrate the Great Nativity. Birth and\nmarriage are the occasions most sacred to mirth and music among men; and\nChristmas is at once the Birthday and the Marriage Festival of Humanity.\n\nGlad and thankful shall I be if any song of mine should help to fan the\nflame of rejoicing love in any Christian heart at this holy and happy\nseason.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                           PAGE\n\nYULE TIDE                                    1\n\nTHE MADONNA DI SAN SISTO                     6\n\nBETHLEHEM GATE                              11\n\nSAINT JOSEPH                                16\n\nA CRADLE SONG                               18\n\nA CRADLED CHILD                             23\n\nAN EMPTY CRADLE                             26\n\nNEW YEAR'S EVE                              28\n\nTHE VICTIM                                  30\n\nTHE DAYSMAN                                 33\n\nTHE PHYSICIAN                               36\n\nTHE POET                                    40\n\nTHREE SISTERS                               43\n\nA CHRISTMAS PUZZLE                          46\n\nFOUR EPIPHANIES                             48\n\nTHE CHILDREN'S EUCHARIST                    56\n\nTHE GOSPEL SONGS:\n\n       I. Benedictus                        59\n\n      II. Magnificat                        63\n\n     III. Nunc Dimittis                     66\n\nNOTES                                       69\n\n\n\n\n_YULE TIDE._\n\n  'They bring me sorrow touched with joy,\n  The merry merry bells of Yule.'\n                   TENNYSON, _In Memoriam_.\n\n\n  The Royal Birthday dawns again,\n    A stricken world to bless;\n  And sufferers forget their pain,\n    And mourners their distress.\n\n  Love sings to-day; her eyes so fair\n    With happy tears are wet;\n  She is too humble to despair,\n    Too faithful to forget.\n\n  Her voice is very soft and sweet,\n    Her heart is brave and strong;\n  Her vassal, I would fain repeat\n    Some fragments of her song.\n\n  A Birthday-song my heart would sing\n    Its rapture to express;\n  My Father's son must be a king,\n    And share His consciousness.\n\n  Of God's Self-knowledge comes the Word\n    That utters all His Thought;\n  That Word made Flesh by all is heard\n    Who seek as they are sought.\n\n  His seeking and His finding make\n    Our search an easy thing;\n  He sows good seed, and bids us take\n    The joys of harvesting.\n\n  Yet must His children do their part,\n    And what He gives accept;\n  No heart can understand His Heart\n    That has not bled and wept.\n\n  All seasons, bring they bale or bliss,\n    His priceless treasures hold;\n  The Winter's silver all is His,\n    And His the Summer's gold.\n\n  Life's harvest is not reaped until\n    The Christ within has grown\n  To perfect manhood, and self-will\n    By love is overthrown.\n\n  Such manhood gained concludes the strife\n    That makes the babe a boy;\n  'T is thus the seed becomes a life,\n    The life becomes a joy.\n\n  The eyes that weep are eyes that see,\n    And swift are pilgrim-feet;\n  Ah! hope at length may come to be\n    Than memory more sweet.\n\n  So keeping festival to-day,\n    With children's laughter near,\n  It is not hard to sing and pray,\n    'T is hard to doubt or fear.\n\n  Father, my heart to Thee I bring,\n    To Thee my song address;\n  From Winter pain and toil of Spring\n    Grows Summer happiness.\n\n\n\n\n_THE MADONNA DI SAN SISTO._[1]\n\n'The Lord Himself shall give you a sign; behold, a Virgin shall conceive\nand bear a Son.'\n\n\n  Behold, by Raphael shown, Love's sacrament!\n    Earth's curtains part, God's veil is lifted up;\n  There comes a Child, forth from His Bosom sent\n    To rule the feast of life, His Bread and Cup,\n    His purpose making plain with man to sup.\n  Out-streams the light, accomplished is the Sign,\n  A Virgin-Mother clasps a Babe Divine.\n\n  Her lovely feet descend the cloudy stair,\n    Great succour bringing to a world forlorn;\n  On either side a man and woman share\n    A common rapture, welcoming the dawn\n    Of God's new day, the everlasting morn--\n  Of such a day as shall from East to West\n  Dispel the darkness, doing Love's behest.\n\n  He turns a face all radiant to the Sun,\n    Enamoured of the sight he looks upon;\n  She to the end of what is now begun\n    Downgazes, stooping, shadowed by the throne\n    Made by a Maiden's arms, maternal grown;\n  Than ivory most fair, than purest gold,\n  More pure, more fair, and stronger to uphold.\n\n  On cherubs twain, whom watching has made wise,\n    A spell has fallen--a prophetic dream;\n  Their upward-gazing and far-seeing eyes,\n    Like stars reflected in a tranquil stream,\n    To look beyond the Child and Mother seem;\n  A twisted thorn-branch and a cross to them\n  Are manifest--His throne and diadem.\n\n  High heaven open stands, and there a crowd\n    Of worshippers with love-lit eyes appear,\n  Like stars down-gazing through a fleecy cloud,\n    Dimly discerned as morning draweth near\n    Spreading a radiant pall upon night's bier.\n  The blessed thing the Sign doth signify\n  They partly know, and are made glad thereby.\n\n  But more the Mother knows, and more she sees\n    Than soaring angel or than climbing saint;\n  Her heart familiar grown with mysteries\n    Of God's own working under love's constraint,\n    The remedy she knows for man's complaint.\n  The clouds are all beneath her, and above\n  The light of life, the radiancy of love.\n\n  And He, Whom Lord of love and life we hail,\n    Is on her bosom borne, a blossom fair;\n  The pentecostal breath that lifts her veil\n    Has fanned His royal brow, and stirred His hair,\n    And kissed His lips just parted for a prayer.\n  That spirit-wind shall blow, that Face shall shine,\n  Till all His brothers know their Father's Sign.\n\nDRESDEN: 1883.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] _See_ Note A, page 69.\n\n\n\n\n_BETHLEHEM GATE._\n\nA PICTURE BY DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI.[2]\n\n\n  Of old through gates that closed on them\n    Two exiles went with eyes downcast;\n    The Present now retrieves the Past,\n  God's Eden is in Bethlehem.\n\n  An Eden that no walls enclose\n    By Mary's arms encompassed,\n    A living shrine, a 'house of bread,'\n  A very haven of repose.\n\n  Behold the Prince of Peace! around\n    His cradle angry tempests rage;\n    He needs must go on pilgrimage,\n  An exile, homeless and discrowned.\n\n  And yet, His Rank to designate,\n    The unquenched Star of Bethlehem\n    Shines forth, a radiant diadem;\n  While Angels on His footsteps wait.\n\n  E'en now the Father's Face they see,\n    A triumph-song e'en now they sing,\n    And, wondering and worshipping,\n  Attend His Pilgrim-Family.\n\n  Two guard the frowning gateway: one\n    Is of a solemn countenance;\n    To him a rapid backward glance\n  Reveals a massacre begun.\n\n  The other, forward gazing, sees\n    The glory of the age to come,\n    The fruitfulness of martyrdom,\n  Of deaths that are nativities.\n\n  O weeping mothers, dry your tears!\n    The Mother whom this canvass shows\n    Nor fears, nor weeps, although she knows\n  An anguish deeper than your fears.\n\n  She knows a comfort deeper still\n    For all who fare on pilgrimage;\n    By suffering from age to age\n  God seals the vassals of His Will.\n\n  Her Burden is upholding her;\n    And, guided by the Holy Dove,\n    She sees the victory of Love\n  Beyond the Cross and Sepulchre.\n\n  To shield her, Joseph stands: his care\n    The shadow of God's Providence.\n    How fragrant is the frankincense\n  Of their uninterrupted prayer!\n\n  Through ever-open gates they press,\n    A new and living way they tread,\n    So gain they the true 'House of Bread,'\n  A garden for a wilderness.\n\n  A flight it seems to us; to them\n    It is a going forth to win\n    The world from Satan and from sin,\n  And build the New Jerusalem.\n\n  Lord Christ! for every seeking soul\n    Thou art Thyself the Door, the Way;\n    All, all shall find one coming day\n  Thy Heart their everlasting goal!\n\nLOCH LEVEN: 1884.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[2] _See_ Note B, page 71.\n\n\n\n\n_S. JOSEPH._\n\n\n  A cloistered garden was the place\n    Where Mary grew, God's perfect flower;\n  One, only one, discerned her grace,\n    And visited her bower.\n\n  God's choice was his; by love made strong\n    To guard the Mother of the King;\n  No heart, save hers, had e'er a song\n    So sweet as his to sing.\n\n  Yet lives there on the sacred page\n    No record of a word from him;\n  God's Ark he guards, a silent sage,\n    Pure as the Cherubim.\n\n  But sweeter than the sweetest word\n    Recorded of the wise and good,\n  His silence is a music heard\n    On high, and understood.\n\n  Blessed are all who take their part\n    Amid the carol-singing throng;\n  Thrice blest the meditative heart\n    Whose silence is a song.\n\nBALLACHULISH: 1884.\n\n\n\n\nA CRADLE SONG.\n\n\n  Sing, ye winds, and sing, ye waters,\n    May the music of your song\n  Silence all the dark forebodings\n    That have plagued the world too long;\n  He who made your voices tuneful\n    Comes to right the wrong.\n\n  Warble on, ye feathered songsters,\n    Lift your praises loud and high,\n  Merry lark, and thrush, and blackbird,\n    In the grove and in the sky\n  Make your music, shame our dumbness,\n    Till we make reply.\n\n  Children's laughter is a music\n    Flowing from a hidden spring,\n  Which, though men misdoubt its virtue,\n    Well is worth discovering;\n  Slowly dies the heart that knows not\n    How to laugh and sing.\n\n  Hark, a cradle-song! the Singer\n    Is the Heart of God Most High;\n  All sweet voices are the echoes\n    That in varied tones reply\n  To that Voice which through the ages\n    Sings earth's lullaby.\n\n  Oftentimes a sleepless infant\n    For a season frets and cries:\n  All at once an unseen finger\n    Curtains up the little eyes.\n  So the cradled child He nurses\n    God will tranquillise.\n\n  His the all-enfolding Presence;\n    Oh, what tutelage it brings\n  To the little lives that ripen\n    'Neath the shelter of its wings;\n  God's delays are no denials,\n    As He waits He sings!\n\n  They alone are seers and singers\n    Who invalidate despair\n  By the lofty hopes they cherish,\n    By the gallant deeds they dare,\n  By the ceaseless aspirations\n    Of a life of prayer.\n\n  Brothers, sisters, lift your voices,\n    May the rapture of your song\n  Put to flight the sad misgivings\n    That have vexed the world too long;\n  God would have us share the triumph\n    That shall right the wrong.\n\nLOCH LAGGAN: 1884.\n\n\n\n\n_A CRADLED CHILD._\n\n(To E. A. G.)\n\n\n  Behold! the world's inheritance,\n    The treasure-trove of happy homes;\n    Whereby the poorest hut becomes\n  A fairy-palace of romance.\n\n  A cradle is the mother's shrine:\n    Two lamps o'erhang it--her sweet eyes,\n    Whose love-light falls, Madonna-wise,\n  On sleeping infancy divine.\n\n  The presence of a 'holy thing,'\n    Madonna-wise, her heart discerns,\n    And like a fragrant censer burns,\n  O'ershadowed by an angel's wing.\n\n  Her brooding motherhood is strong;\n    A trembling joy her bosom stirs,\n    Her thoughts are white-robed worshippers,\n  'Magnificat' is all her song.\n\n  'Mid angels whispering 'all-hails'\n    The waking moment she awaits,\n    The opening of two pearly gates,\n  The lifting of two silken veils.\n\n  Ah! then, what words can tell the bliss,\n    The rapture of the fond embrace,\n    When mother's lips on baby's face,\n  Feast and are feasted with a kiss?\n\n  And who can tell of hands and feet\n    The dimpled wonders, hidden charms,\n    The dainty curves of legs and arms,\n  So sweet and soft, so soft and sweet?\n\n  This is the world's possession still,\n    The treasure-trove of wedded hearts,\n    Whereby a Father's love imparts\n  His joy, their gladness to fulfil.\n\nTYNTESFIELD: 1884.\n\n\n\n\n_AN EMPTY CRADLE._\n\n\n  All empty stands a little cradle-bed,\n    A mother's falling tears the only sound;\n    But not of earth her thoughts, nor underground;\n  Up-gazing she discerns the Fountain-head\n  Of life; the living Voice she hears that said\n    'Fear not' to weeping women who had found\n    An empty tomb, and angels watching round,\n  Who asked 'Why seek the living with the dead?'\n\n  So weeps our Mother Church--her tears outshine\n    Sun-smitten dewdrops on a summer's morn;\n  God's rainbow girdles her, Hope's lovely sign,\n    Whereby she knows that smiles of tears are born;\n  Fulfilled of life herself, she would assure\n  Her children all of death's discomfiture.\n\nCARLISLE: 1884.\n\n\n\n\n_NEW YEAR'S EVE._\n\n\n  God grant through coming years and days\n    Our beating hearts may be\n  The harps that celebrate His praise\n    Who loves eternally!\n\n  No ache can be without relief\n    When Love Himself draws near;\n  No cup can empty stand, no grief\n    Embitter God's New Year.\n\n  Time's footsteps quickly die away,\n    Soon emptied is his glass;\n  We wait for an oncoming Day\n    Which nevermore shall pass.\n\n  Old hopes revive, new hopes are born,\n    The coming months to cheer;\n  And phantom-fears and griefs outworn\n    Die with the dying year.\n\n  Oh, all the years and all the days\n    Our waiting hearts shall be\n  Harps tremulous with His dear praise\n    Whose is Eternity!\n\nS. BARNABAS': _December 31, 1883_.\n\n\n\n\n_THE VICTIM._\n\nFOR THE FEAST OF THE CIRCUMCISION: NEW YEAR'S DAY.\n\n\n  The sun methinks rose rosy-red\n    On that great New Year's Day,\n  When Blood was in the cradle shed\n    Where Mary's Darling lay.\n\n  The lark, uprising with the sun,\n    Was silent on the wing;\n  The nightingale, when day was done,\n    Forgot her song to sing.\n\n  A holy silence reigned around,\n    And hushed was every voice,\n  When in the crib the Cross was found,\n    The Infant-Victim's choice.\n\n  As moonbeam on a mountain-mere\n    The Mother's face was white;\n  Her eyes were stars, and every tear\n    Gave lustre to their light.\n\n  Methinks a blushing moon looked down\n    Upon that manger-bed,\n  And wove a mystic glory-crown\n    Around the Sleeper's head.\n\n  The silence issues in a song,\n    It rises and it swells;\n  E'en than the lark's more blithe and strong,\n    Sweeter than Philomel's,\n  His Church's anthem loud and long\n    The Victim's triumph tells.\n\n\n\n\n_THE DAYSMAN._\n\n\n  In boyhood's sorrow-shadowed days,\n    Which memory recalls to-day,\n  In many moods and many ways,\n    My yearning heart would pray.\n\n  'T was holy ground where'er I set\n    My feet, God's shrine was everywhere;\n  But this I scarcely knew as yet--\n    _Christ is His Father's Prayer_.[3]\n\n  God ever seeks His children's bliss,\n    Appeals to them; and, rightly heard,\n  The music of creation is\n    The echo of His Word.\n\n  But when the child has learnt his part,\n    The echo is an answer strong;\n  A prayer up-springing from the heart\n    That blossoms in a song.\n\n  Christ is the Living Word of God,\n    His Poem and His Prophecy;\n  The homeward way His Feet have trod\n    Mankind must travel by.\n\n  And every man, God's child and priest,\n    Is pledged to ministry divine,\n  Who sees the Ruler of life's feast\n    Turn water into wine;\n\n  Who hears the Father's voice above,\n    The Spirit's whispering within;\n  Who knows the Messenger of love\n    The Conqueror of sin.\n\n  Responsive to God's call, our Prayer\n    Art Thou, dear Lord, whene'er we pray;\n  So always now, and everywhere,\n    My heart keeps holiday.\n\nON THE DANUBE: _Feast of the Holy Name_, 1883.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[3] _See_ Note C, page 72.\n\n\n\n\n_THE PHYSICIAN._\n\n\n  Is life sad for lost love's sake,\n    Falls a blight upon thy bliss,\n  Smiles no more their sunshine make,\n    Lips estranged withhold their kiss?\n  For thy consolation take\n    Some such song as this:--\n\n  Shine on us, O Morning Star!\n    Help our weeping eyes to see;\n  Never may we deem things are\n    What to us they seem to be;\n  Rise, Thou Dayspring, and afar\n    Bid the shadows flee!\n\n  Jesu, Thou art swift to bless,\n    Strong to comfort, skilled to heal;\n  Failure is with Thee success,\n    Woe the forerunner of weal;\n  Every stroke is a caress,\n    Every crust a meal.\n\n  Master, Thou canst raise the dead\n    From the grave, the bed, the bier,[4]\n  Souls astray, forlorn, misled,\n    Buffeted by doubt and fear,\n  Cannot but be comforted\n    When Thou drawest near.\n\n  Sweeter than the Sunday-bells\n    Banishing all week-day cares,\n  Thine the gracious voice that tells\n    What a Father's love prepares,\n  Leading to salvation's wells\n    Up God's altar-stairs.\n\n  Lord, Thou art the Master-singer,\n    And Thy song is a recall;\n  Many on life's pathway linger,\n    Many by life's wayside fall,\n  But Thy Heart, the comfort-bringer,\n    Is a Home for all!\n\nTYROL: 1882.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[4] S. John xi. 43; S. Matt. ix. 25; S. Luke vii. 14.\n\n\n\n\n_THE POET._\n\n\n  The poet is the child of God,\n    Who with anointed eye\n  Discerns a sacrament of love\n    In earth and sea and sky,\n  And finds himself at love's behest\n    Constrained to prophesy.\n\n  Love is of loveliness the root,\n    Love is of life the spring,\n  Love is the sole interpreter\n    Of every lovely thing:\n  This is the burden of his song,\n    Well may the poet sing!\n\n  A joy-inspired song he sings\n    Because far off he hears\n  A whisper silencing the storm,\n    A laughter through the tears,\n  The music of eternity\n    Beyond the dying years.\n\n  His song is rapture, for he sees\n    God's loveliness, and we,\n  When with his insight we are blest,\n    Shall share his ecstasy;\n  Oh, come the day when all shall sing\n    As blithe a song as he!\n\n  Lord Christ, Thou art the King of Love,\n    Thou art the Poet true;\n  The men who would Thy vision share\n    Must learn Thy works to do,\n  All, all shall have the singing heart\n    Whose feet Thy steps pursue!\n\nPITZ ORTLER: 1882.\n\n\n\n\n_THREE SISTERS._[5]\n\n\n  Three fountains clear as crystal spring\n    In one secluded garden-plot;\n    In shade and shelter of one cot\n  Three sister-doves are harbouring.\n\n  Adown one pathway hand in hand\n    Three Sister-Graces wend their way;\n    I shall not soon forget the day\n  I met with them in fairy land.\n\n  They _dawned_, I know not how or whence:\n    A halo circling round the head\n    Of each, whereby transfigured\n  They clomb the hill of frankincense.\n\n  I know not whence or how, they _bloomed_:\n    Each sweeter than the sweetest rose\n    That in the haunted garden grows\n  Where burns the bush still unconsumed.\n\n  And one is like a rising sun\n    When dewy Morn unveils her eyes;\n    And one is as Minerva wise;\n  And very lily-like is one.\n\n  And all are dear. I seem to see\n    The weaving of a threefold cord--\n    To hear a softly whispered word,\n  'Love makes a unity of three.'\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[5] _See_ Note D, page 74.\n\n\n\n\n_A CHRISTMAS PUZZLE._\n\n(FOR GROWN-UP CHILDREN.)\n\n\n  Children know the things I know not,\n    Though they know not that they know;\n  I should know not, should love grow not,\n    That I know not it is so.\n  Flowers feebly rooted blow not,\n  Shallow waters overflow not,\n    Love is doomed unless it grow.\n\n  Fools who think to reap and sow not\n    Growing love will overthrow;\n  Churls who say 'We go' and go not\n    Love's rebuke must undergo;\n  All who love's insignia show not,\n  Who on love themselves bestow not,\n    Love, full grown, shall lay them low.\n\n\n\n\n_FOUR EPIPHANIES._[6]\n\n\nI.\n\n  The Pilgrim-Kings their King have found,\n    The Wise Men kneel at Wisdom's shrine,\n  Their royal gifts His Crib surround,\n    He gives them bread and wine.\n\n  One Star has pointed to the Sun,\n    That men may see and understand\n  The witness borne by all to One,\n    Who holds in His Right Hand,\n\n  Like lamps that round an altar burn,\n    All lights that shine, all worlds that be\n  Crowned are the men whose hearts discern\n    Their King's Epiphany.\n\n\nII.\n\n  The Child obedient sets His face\n    To seek His Father's House of Prayer,\n  With other children takes His place,\n    And is a learner there.\n\n  Two worlds there are; the child to each\n    Belongs, God's prophet, born to bless;\n  But not by action, nor by speech,\n    Simply by winsomeness.\n\n  For, like the Child of Bethlehem,\n    Babes bring their blessing from afar,\n  Enriching all who wait on them\n    By being what they are.\n\n\nIII.\n\n  A voice from heaven spake aloud,\n    Heard clearly by the Bridegroom's friend\n  When, shadowed by the glory-cloud,\n    He saw the Dove descend.\n\n  One Voice has heralded the Word,\n    That listening men may truly know\n  What mean all voices they have heard\n    Above, around, below--\n\n  Soft whisperings and laughters loud,\n    The song of birds, the insects' hum,\n  Storm-music of the thunder-cloud--\n    And be no longer dumb.\n\n\nIV.\n\n  That jubilance of bridal mirth,\n    First felt at Cana, has not ceased;\n  Christ's Presence still regales the earth,\n    Still glorifies the feast.\n\n  The Ruler of the feast of life\n    Still with a sacramental sign\n  Confirms the love of man and wife,\n    And makes the water wine.\n\n  And His the glory still revealed\n    When lovers plight and keep their vows;\n  Himself the Bridegroom Who has sealed\n    The Church to be His Spouse.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[6] _See_ Note E, page 77.\n\n\n\n\n_THE CHILDREN'S EUCHARIST._\n\n\n  The children's star-crowned Bethlehem,\n    The children's 'house of bread,'\n  Where Jesus' arms encircle them,\n    With milk and honey fed:--\n  Such is the Church, whose altar-gates\n    Stand ever open, when\n  The board is furnished where He waits\n    To feast the hearts of men.\n\n  A Babe He came one heart to bless\n    (It is His cradle still),\n  And evermore her blessedness\n    Is theirs who do His will;\n  A Child He trod the Temple-floor,\n    By Mary Mother led;\n  By children's voices evermore\n    His praise is perfected.\n\n  'Forbid them not,' He said of old:\n    The words so stern and sweet\n  Still make believing mothers bold\n    To gather at His Feet,\n  And bring their babes; their hearts discern\n    (And oh, that others would!)\n  How mother-like His Heart must yearn\n    Who made their motherhood.\n\n  A happy Home where children pray,\n    With milk and honey fed,\n  Whose altar-hearth burns bright alway,\n    Whose board is richly spread:--\n  Such is the Church; and sweet the song\n    Her little children sing,\n  Of all who round His Altar throng\n    The dearest to our King.\n\nBALLACHULISH: 1884.\n\n\n\n\n_THE GOSPEL SONGS._[7]\n\n\nI.\n\nBENEDICTUS.\n\n  Can priestly lips, long silenced, raise\n    A strain so lofty and so strong,\n  Making our matin hymn of praise\n    As jubilant as evensong?\n\n  Yes: not the lips alone, the eyes\n    Of Zacharias were unsealed,\n  To see and sing the mysteries\n    To love and penitence revealed.\n\n  With keen prevision of the seer\n    He sings of a redemption wrought,\n  Whereby, released from slavish fear,\n    Men are to filial freedom brought.\n\n  Three things immutable and sure,\n    His promise, covenant, and oath,\n  Reveal God's purpose, and secure\n    Whate'er man needs for life and growth.\n\n  The promise to the fathers made\n    Was seen and known--th' Incarnate Word;\n  The Cross His covenant displayed,\n    His oath at Pentecost was heard.\n\n  Well may this father's heart rejoice,\n    And with prophetic rapture sing;\n  His song a prelude to that 'Voice'[8]\n    Predestined to proclaim the King.\n\n  His joy a foretaste of that mirth\n    Which shall the hearts of all possess,\n  When o'er a recreated earth\n    Christ's sceptre reigns in righteousness.\n\n  Of light he sings for darkened eyes,\n    For wandering feet the way of peace,\n  Tells how the Dayspring shall arise,\n    And shadows flee and sorrows cease.\n\n  And still the Church's children raise\n    That strain so lofty and so strong,\n  Which makes their matin hymn of praise\n    As jubilant as evensong.\n\nLOCH LAGGAN: 1884.\n\n\nII.\n\nMAGNIFICAT.\n\n  Earth's noise God's music supersedes,\n    Sin's discord it excludes,\n  It tells us of a Lamb that bleeds,\n    And of a Dove that broods.\n\n  It tells us of a Child Who brings\n    The help that sets us free;\n  The song His Maiden-Mother sings\n    Of saved Humanity.\n\n  The Mother's and the Sister's part\n    She plays; she leads the choir\n  Of those whose purity of heart\n    Is passionate desire.\n\n  Above the blood-encrimsoned sea,\n    Dispelling doubt and fear\n  With her celestial minstrelsy,\n    Our Miriam doth cheer\n\n  The men whose homeward-going hearts\n    Are loyal to their King;\n  When all from her have learnt their parts,\n    Then shall creation sing!\n\n  The sweetest of the Gospel songs,\n    To all the Saints so dear,\n  To every eventide belongs\n    Throughout the changeful year.\n\n  It sanctifies the vesper hour\n    When summer smiles serene;\n  It is a joy-constraining power\n    When winter blasts are keen.\n\n  'My soul doth magnify the Lord'--\n    Ecstatic is the voice\n  That sings of Paradise restored--\n    'My spirit doth rejoice!'\n\nPINZOLO: 1882.\n\n\nIII.\n\nNUNC DIMITTIS.\n\n  To cradle Mary's Child his heart\n    An old man opens wide:\n  Behold him in God's peace depart,\n    And in God's peace abide.\n\n  He sings the very Song of Peace,\n    Responsive to the Word;\n  His lullaby shall never cease\n    To make its music heard.\n\n  For all the children of the Bride,\n    The subjects of the King,\n  With each returning eventide\n    Have learnt his song to sing.\n\n  He sings of 'peace,' 'salvation,' 'light:'\n    His lovely words we take\n  For consolation night by night,\n    Until God's morning break.\n\n  Then, when our dazzled eyes grow dim,\n    Breathed with our parting breath\n  The old man's sweet, heart-soothing hymn\n    Glad welcome gives to death.\n\n  We too what Simeon saw may see--\n    The Mother undefiled,\n  Our hearts enfold as blissfully\n    The Everlasting Child!\n\nTYROL: 1882.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[7] _See_ Note F, page 78.\n\n[8] S. John i. 23.\n\n\n\n\nNOTES.\n\n\nNOTE A.\n\n_The Madonna di San Sisto._\n\nRaffaelle's world-famous picture of the Mother and her Divine Child in\nthe Gallery at Dresden is in a measure known to almost all from prints\nand photographs. As to the _colour_ of the picture, the significant\nbeauty of which none who have not seen the original can conceive, it\nshould be remembered that the parted curtains are green (the\nearth-colour), and the Virgin Mother comes forth, as it were, from the\nwhite bosom of a stooping heaven, whose far distances, dimly seen, fade\ninto a blue firmament peopled with angelic faces.\n\nMany have felt this picture--at once so serene and so impassioned--to be\na _revelation_. As we yield ourselves to its fascination and search\nfurther and further into its depths, we feel that Faber's words justify\nthemselves: 'Christian Art, rightly considered, is at once a theology\nand a worship; a theology which has its own method of teaching, its own\nways of representation, its own devout discoveries, its own varying\nopinions, all of which are beautiful so long as they are in\nsubordination to the mind of the Church.... Art is a revelation from\nheaven, and a mighty power for God. It is a merciful disclosure to men\nof His more hidden beauty. It brings out things in God which lie too\ndeep for words.' (_Bethlehem_, p. 240.)\n\nIt was a satisfaction to find my reading of this incomparable picture\npowerfully endorsed by one who, more perhaps than any living writer, has\nmade good his claim to be regarded with the reverence that belongs to a\nscribe instructed in the things of the spiritual kingdom, bringing forth\nfrom his treasure things new and old. I quote the following passage from\nCanon Westcott's weighty contribution to the discussion of a subject\nsecond to none in interest and importance--'The Relation of Christianity\nto Art:' 'In the _Madonna di San Sisto_ Raffaelle has rendered the idea\nof Divine motherhood and Divine Sonship in intelligible forms. No one\ncan rest in the individual figures. The tremulous fulness of emotion in\nthe face of the Mother, the intense, far-reaching gaze of the Child,\nconstrain the beholder to look beyond. For him too the curtain is drawn\naside; he feels that there is a fellowship of earth with heaven and of\nheaven with earth, and understands the meaning of the attendant Saints\nwho express the different aspects of this double communion.' (_Epistles\nof S. John_, p. 358.)\n\nI will only add some beautiful words of Mrs. Jameson, which also I had\nnot seen when my verses were written: 'I have seen my own ideal once,\nand only once, attained: there, where Raffaelle--inspired if ever\npainter was inspired--projected on the space before him that wonderful\ncreation which we style the _Madonna di San Sisto_; for there she\nstands--the transfigured woman--at once completely human and completely\ndivine, an abstraction of power, purity, and love, poised on the\nempurpled air, and requiring no other support; looking out with her\nmelancholy, loving mouth, her slightly dilated, sibylline eyes, quite\nthrough the universe, to the end and consummation of all things; sad, as\nif she beheld afar off the visionary sword that was to reach her heart\nthrough Him, now resting as enthroned on that heart; yet already exalted\nthrough the homage of the redeemed generations who were to salute her as\nBlessed.' (_Legends of the Madonna_: Introduction, p. 44.)\n\n\nNOTE B.\n\n_Bethlehem Gate._\n\nI extract the following from some unpublished notes on the pictures by\nRossetti exhibited at Burlington House two years ago: '\"Bethlehem Gate\"\nis the name of a lovely little pictured parable. On the left we see the\nmassacre of innocents, representing the world, in whose cruel\nhabitations the same outrage is ever being enacted, since all sin is in\ntruth the sin of blood-guiltiness, bringing life into jeopardy. On the\nright the Heavenly Dove is seen leading forth God's elect children, the\nHoly Family, the infant Church, to the land of righteousness. The\nMaiden-Mother, with the Divine Innocent enthroned on her bosom, attended\nand protected by a backward-looking and a forward-looking angel, and\nescorted by S. Joseph, passes the gate of the City of David. Egypt\nbeneath her feet becomes the holy land.[9] Thus with all fitting\nceremonial is the Church's pilgrimage through the world, through the\nages, inaugurated.'\n\n\nNOTE C.\n\n_The Daysman._\n\n'The Word became Flesh and tabernacled among us'--that is the supreme\nand august Verity which dominates all the thoughts of the children of\nthe Kingdom. Their eyes are fixed on the Life that the Scripture-record\ncontains rather than on the record itself.\n\nTo them the oracles of God are indeed _living_, because they discern\ntherein not certain words about Christ, but Christ the Word Himself;\nreading them by the light of the great Tradition which lives and grows\nwith the life and growth of the Spirit-bearing Church--the consciousness\nof the real Presence of Christ in her and in her Scriptures alike. It is\nin truth no unwritten Tradition, for it is inscribed in spiritual\ncharacters upon the fleshy tables of the heart by the Holy Ghost\nHimself, the Finger of God. To His pupils all things are Divine _words_\nvariously embodied, and the Word made Flesh is the one all-comprehending\nMystery, the eternal, all-revealing, and all-sufficing Sacrament. That\nWord is a Divine Person, Whose Manhood is a living, abiding,\never-energising Mediatorial Agency. That Word, eternally uttered by the\nMouth of God, was in the Incarnation uttered (so to speak) in another\nlanguage, and made audible and intelligible to man. By this language,\ncommon to God and man, the thought of God became man's thought, and the\nthought of man God's thought. In Him, the Mediating Word, they are _at\none_; He _is_ the Atonement. And being the Word, He is the _Prayer_ both\nof God and man, whose expression is the enduring evidence of that\nAtonement, the ceaseless occupation and satisfaction of those who in Him\nare atoned and united. 'A mediator is not a mediator of one, but God is\none,' is S. Paul's statement of the mystery; and of this characteristic\ndoctrine of Christianity the Psalmist had already caught a glimpse\nwhen, in the exercise of a prophetical gift, he speaks of Christ as\n_Prayer_.[10]\n\nIt is needless to add that the sanctuary of the Eucharist is the school\nin which this truth is most eloquently taught and effectually learnt.\n\n\nNOTE D.\n\n_Three Sisters._\n\nThe following interpretation, which accompanied the poem on its first\nappearance, is retained for the sake of those who then welcomed it:--\n\nThose who sing songs to children no less than they who tell them stories\nmust be prepared for many questions, some of them difficult to answer.\nThe two questions which recur most frequently are (1) 'Is it true?' and\n(2) 'What does it mean?'\n\nQuestioned as to my little poem, I reply to the first question without\nhesitation,--'Yes, it is all true.' But the second question is more\ndifficult to deal with. If, however, an answer is insisted on, something\nlike this is what I must say:--\n\nGod's story has no end; it is more wonderful than anything wonderland\ncan show; lovelier than the loveliest thing said or sung of fairyland.\nThe Gospel and the Creed are a part of that story; and with this our\nlittle poem is concerned. It speaks of God's garden--paradise\nregained--a renewed earth, wherein a trinity in unity, observable in all\nthings, testifies of Him, a shadow cast from above.\n\nShall we take the verses in order?\n\nVerse 1. Three fountains (which issue forth from beneath one\naltar-throne) feed one river (which, strange to say, seen from below, is\nfour-fold), and by this river the whole earth, God's garden, is\nencircled and fertilised. That garden contains the tree of life, wherein\nthree doves have one nest.\n\nVerse 2. But the fuller revelation comes out of human nature itself,\nwhen taken into fellowship with God. The elect lady, representative of\nhumanity, is from one point of view, looking at fundamental relations,\ndaughter, spouse, mother; from another, looking at essential\ncharacteristics, faith, hope, and love. The place of meeting, that is\ndawning consciousness, is the fairyland of phenomenal existence.\n\nVerse 3. Out of this fairyland humanity is led forward and upward by the\npath of sacrifice, until the summit of the cross-crowned mountain of\nlife is gained; and all heads are aureoled by a light which, like that\nof the Transfiguration, dawns and deepens from within. This cannot be\ntill we have ceased to be self-centred, and have become Christ-centred.\n\nVerse 4. All growth is very secret and mysterious, part of the mystery\nof life. The development of humanity follows the order indicated in the\nnarrative of creation; light must come before vegetation, sunshine\nbefore flowers. In the garden of the Incarnation all is recovered; the\nwilderness blossoms as a rose, and the poor bush of the desert becomes a\ngarden-tree, a plant of renown, unconsumed because permanently enkindled\nwith the fire of a divine life.\n\nVerse 5. Every flower is a little sun, and shines forth, owing its\nbeauty to an effort after conformity to the likeness of its cherisher,\nnot without the succour of gracious dews. Its sunshine ministers to\nhope. And by faith the old-world homage rendered to wisdom (with which\nit is really one) is justified and transfigured. And love, being one\nwith purity, looks at us out of the sweet white face of the lily.\n\nVerse 6. All men, like these sister-graces, must join hands and hearts.\nThus shall be woven a threefold cord, divinely strong and unbreakable;\nand the testimony, reiterated by the still small voice of a Divine\nWhisperer, shall be accepted by all, because realised in all: 'Love\nmakes a unity of three;' and '_God is love_.'\n\n'Is that what the poem means?' I think I hear my questioner ask. 'Yes,\nthat is a little of what it means--only a little.'\n\n\nNOTE E.\n\n_Four Epiphanies._\n\nNothing perhaps more clearly demonstrates the Divine instinct that\nresides in the Church than the construction of her Calendar and the\narrangement of her year. Like the Creed, whose truths it teaches and\nenforces, it grew up gradually as the outcome and embodiment of her\ndevotional life. The Epiphany, or Feast of Manifestation, was one of the\nfirst observed of her days of solemn commemoration; and the day came to\nbe prolonged into a season embracing six Sundays. She would have her\nchildren understand that in all that He did and said our Lord was\nmanifesting forth His glory, and justifying His great announcement--'I\nam the Light of the world.'\n\nThe Four Epiphanies to which the poem refers belong to the Scriptures\nappointed for the Day itself and the two following Sundays. The first\nwas made to the Wise Men of the East, representing the inspired wisdom\nof the Gentile world; the second to the Doctors of the Temple,\nrepresenting the Bible-taught wisdom of the Jews; the third to the\nForerunner, the last and greatest of the Prophet-heralds of the\nIncarnation; the fourth to the Bridegroom and Bride and the wedding\nguests at Cana of Galilee, representing Humanity, of which the family is\nthe appointed and abiding type.\n\nThe Catholic Church by her methods, no less than by her Sacraments, her\nScriptures, and her Creeds, is ever maintaining her protest against the\nlimitations by which all merely human systems are disfigured. She is\never bearing her impassioned witness to Him Who is 'the Light that\nlighteth every man that cometh into the world.' This is the real\nsignificance of the solemnities that accompany her Epiphany observance.\n\n\nNOTE F.\n\n_The Gospel Songs._\n\nThe Tree of Life is the real Christmas Tree. Its underwoven roots\nsupport the cradle; its branches, overarching with many a blossom and\nmany a cluster, form the canopy of the Heavenly Babe, the Darling of God\nand of man. 'The fruit thereof is for meat, the leaf thereof for\nmedicine;' mindful of which the holy Evangelists speak of the crib as a\n'_manger_,' that is the _feeding place_. 'Lo! we heard of the same at\n(Bethlehem) Ephrata, and found it in the Wood.'\n\nThe Gospel songs express the joy with which by the humble and simple and\npure-hearted this Plant of Renown is discovered; this House of Bread\nvisited. They come from the lips of a maiden who is a mother, of an\nancient who is a child, of a priest who is a prophet. When such\nfountains of song are unsealed, the music belongs rather to heaven than\nto earth.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[9] _See_ Isaiah xix. 19-25.\n\n[10] Psalm cix. 4: 'I am prayer' is the literal translation.--KAY.\n\n\n            LONDON: PRINTED BY\n  SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE\n           AND PARLIAMENT STREET","title":"A Christmas Faggot","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":6387}