With memory of the old revolt from Awe,

He reached a middle height, and at the stars,
Which are the brain of Heaven, he looked, and sank.
Around the ancient track marched, rank on rank,

The army of unalterable law.

George Meredith [1828–1909]

HORA CHRISTI

SWEET is the time for joyous folk

Of gifts and minstrelsy;
Yet I, O lowly-hearted One,

Crave but Thy company.

On lonesome road, beset with dread,
My questing lies afar.

I have no light, save in the east
The gleaming of Thy star.

In cloistered aisles they keep to-day
Thy feast, O living Lord!

With pomp of banner, pride of song,

And stately-sounding word.

Mute stand the kings of power and place,
While priests of holy mind
Dispense Thy blessed heritage
Of peace to all mankind.

I know a spot where budless twigs
Are bare above the snow,

And where sweet winter-loving birds

Flit softly to and fro;

There with the sun for altar-fire,

The earth for kneeling-place,

The gentle air for Chorister,
Will I adore Thy face.

Loud, underneath the great blue sky,
My heart shall pæan sing,

The gold and myrrh of meekest love
Mine only offering.

Christus Consolator

Bliss of Thy birth shall quicken me,

And for Thy pain and dole

Tears are but vain, so I will keep

The silence of the soul.

Alice Brown [1857

CHRISTUS CONSOLATOR

BESIDE the dead I knelt for prayer,
And felt a presence as I prayed.
Lo! it was Jesus standing there.
He smiled: "Be not afraid!"

"Lord, thou hast conquered death we know;
Restore again to life," I said,

"This one who died an hour ago."

He smiled: "She is not dead!"

"Asleep then, as thyself did say;

Yet thou canst lift the lids that keep
Her prisoned eyes from ours away!"
He smiled: "She doth not sleep!"

"Nay then, though haply she do wake,
And look upon some fairer dawn,
Restore her to our hearts that ache!"
He smiled: "She is not gone!"

"Alas! too well we know our loss,

Nor hope again our joy to touch, Until the stream of death we cross.'

He smiled: "There is no such!"

"Yet our beloved seem so far,

The while we yearn to feel them near,
Albeit with Thee we trust they are."
He smiled: "And I am here!"

Dear Lord, how shall we know that they
Still walk unseen with us and Thee,

Nor sleep, nor wander far away?"
He smiled: "Abide with me.'

Rossiter Worthington Raymond [1840

3523

THAT HOLY THING

From "Paul Faber "

THEY all were looking for a king

To slay their foes and lift them high:
Thou cam'st, a little baby thing

That made a woman cry.

O Son of Man, to right my lot
Naught but Thy presence can avail;
Yet on the road Thy wheels are not,
Nor on the sea Thy sail!

My how or when Thou wilt not heed,
But come down Thine own secret stair,
That Thou mayst answer all my need—
Yea, every bygone prayer.

George Macdonald [1824-1905]

WHAT CHRIST SAID

I SAID, "Let me walk in the fields;"
He said, "Nay, walk in the town;'
I said, "There are no flowers there;"
He said, "No flowers, but a crown."

I said, "But the sky is black,

There is nothing but noise and din;" But He wept as He sent me back— "There is more," He said, "there is sin."

I said, "But the air is thick,

And fogs are veiling the sun;"

He answered, "Yet hearts are sick,
And souls in the dark undone."

I said, “I shall miss the light,

And friends will miss me, they say;"

He answered me, "Choose to-night

If I am to miss you or they."

San Lorenzo Giustiniani's Mother 3525

I pleaded for time to be given;
He said, "Is it hard to decide?
It will not seem hard in heaven

To have followed the steps of your Guide."

I cast one look at the field,

Then set my face to the town;

He said, "My child, do you yield?

Will you leave the flowers for the crown?"

Then into His hand went mine.

And into my heart came He.

And I walk in a light divine

The path I had feared to see.

George Macdonald [1824-1905]

SAN LORENZO GIUSTINIANI'S MOTHER

"And we the shadows of the dream "-SHELLEY

I HAD not seen my son's dear face
(He chose the cloister by God's grace)
Since it had come to full flower-time.
I hardly guessed at its perfect prime,
That folded flower of his dear face.

Mine eyes were veiled by mists of tears
When on a day in many years

One of his Order came. I thrilled,
Facing, I thought, that face fulfilled.
I doubted, for my mists of tears.

His blessing be with me forever!
My hope and doubt were hard to sever.
-That altered face, those holy weeds.
I filled his wallet and kissed his beads,
And lost his echoing feet for ever.

If to my son my alms were given
I know not, and I wait for Heaven.
He did not plead for child of mine,
But for another Child divine,

And unto Him it was surely given.

There is One alone who cannot change;
Dreams are we, shadows, visions strange;
And all I give is given to One.

I might mistake my dearest son,

But never the Son who cannot change.

Alice Meynell [1853

A BALLAD OF TREES AND THE MASTER

INTO the woods my Master went,

Clean forspent, forspent.

Into the woods my Master came,

Forspent with love and shame.

But the olives they were not blind to Him;

The little gray leaves were kind to Him;

The thorn-tree had a mind to Him

When into the woods He came.

Out of the woods my Master went,

And He was well content.

Out of the woods my Master came,

Content with death and shame.

When Death and Shame would woo Him last,

From under the trees they drew Him last:

'Twas on a tree they slew Him-last

When out of the woods He came.

Sidney Lanier [1842-1881]