Poems

Front matter

BY

HARRIET McEWEN KIMBALL

NEW YORK ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH AND CO.

As Thou Wilt

Part I. THE HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH.

The Guest

Opening wide the door he came, But I could not speak his name; In the guest-chair took his place, But I could not see his face. When my cheerful fire was beaming, When my little lamp was gleaming, And the feast was spread for three, Lo, my Master Was the Guest that supped with me!

Praying in Spirit

And never through those crystal walls The clash of life can pierce its way; Nor ever can a human ear Drink in the secret words I say.

One hearkening even cannot know When I have crossed the threshold o'er; For He alone who hears my prayer Has heard the shutting of the door.

"The Blessed Company of all Faithful People"

And lo! the faithful noiseless moved as thought Responsive, yet unconscious of response, Their rapt eyes lifted to the shining morn, As seeing Him who is invisible. He named them, clan by clan, His chosen ones: The poor in spirit, and the souls that mourn, The meek, and those for righteousness athirst, The merciful, the pure in heart, the just, The valiant, the forbearing, named He thus. For every clan a benediction sweet, And sweeter promises of victory, thus:—

Blessed are the poor, Jesus spake; Poor in spirit for My sake; Who seek the glory of this world no more, Nor gather riches that shall fly away; Of the heavenly kingdom heirs are they.

Blessed, Blessed they who mourn, He said; Precious are the tears they shed, The ashes on the bowèd head. All their sins confessèd, They shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, Who seek The Father's will in quietness and peace, Caring little for all things beside;

They shall increase, And with the fulness of the earth be satisfied. Blessed they, He said, After righteousness an-hungerèd; Blessed they whose thirst The pleasures of this world accurst Have not stilled; With My bread Shall the famishèd be fed; With My wine the parchèd lips be filled.

Blessed, blessed they The merciful, whose ears Are swift to hear the crying of distress; Soft as the rain in summer fall their tears; Their place is found beside the fatherless. Yea, Blessed they To whom the outcast and the poor complain Not in vain; Mercies numberless They hereafter shall obtain.

Blessed are the pure in heart, He said, Whose feet the paths of holiness do tread, Whose looks are God-ward, and whose hands are clean; Through glories manifold Shall they behold Him whom no eye hath seen.

Blessed they who seek To turn all strife to peace, Whose words are as a covert to the weak, Who make the anger of the strong to cease; Children of God shall they Be called for aye.

Blessed they who steadfast stand Through persecutions dread, Though on every hand The wicked bend the bow To lay them low; Theirs the kingdom never vanquishèd.

Blessed ye when men revile And persecute you falsely for My sake; Ye who, walking without guile, With Me partake Shame and scorn awhile.

Yea, rejoice, Ye who fly not from the arrows of the strong; Be exceeding glad, for unto you is given Great reward in heaven; Even now lift up your voice In victorious song; For so persecuted they The prophets in their day: Again rejoice.

Then all the winds of heaven: Amen! Amen!

Security

Free in the vast encircling sky Of God's protecting grace, She pours her matchless song on high Of thankfulness and praise.

My Knowledge

The Way, the Truth, the Life Thou art, This,this I know; to this I cleave; The sweet new language of my heart, "Lord, I believe." I have no doubts to bring to Thee; My doubt has fled; my faith is free.

Holy Mysteries

But flows a sacramental flood That contrite sinners shall avail We know not how; We only bow And say, Amen.

How can it be—from age to age. Since the great day of Pentecost, The Church abides, though heathen rage, The grace of Orders never lost! We know not how; We only bow And say Amen.

How can it be—goes forth the word Of holy Church, and twain are one: Type of Her union with Her Lord, Foreshadowed when the race begun We know not how; We only bow And say Amen.

How can it be that wine and bread In death's dark hour shall life afford, Till with His unveiled Presence fed We are forever with the Lord! We know not how; We only bow And say Amen.

The Christian Year

Son of God, His glory hiding, And as Man with man abiding; Son of Mary, lowly Maiden, With eternal honor laden; Little Jesus, coming still To the hearts He fain would fill; Finding with the meek a place To exalt them through His grace; While the angels, as of yore, Praises still on praises pour, And with "Merry Christmas" sweet Christians all good Christians greet.

Circumcision: showing forth Of obedience the worth, When the little Jesus, brought To the Rite commanded, taught All his children to obey, Following in the Church's way; To be pure as He is pure, Seeking pleasures that endure.

Epiphany: whose wondrous Star Led the Magi from afar, And the Christ revealed to them In the Babe of Bethlehem. Precious gold to Him they bring, Thus acknowledging their King;

Precious frankincense they pour For the God whom they adore; Precious myrrh their love supplies For their Lord and Sacrifice. Every gift we can command Of loyal heart and loyal hand, Every deed that serves to show Heavenly love in love below, Jesus claims as tribute due, All good Christians, now from you.

When Epiphany is spent, Sundays three, like heralds sent, Cry aloud the Fast of Lent. Septuagesima first, and second Sexagesima is reckoned; Quinquagesima, the last; Then comes in the solemn Fast, With Ash Wednesday's litanies, That from hearts repentant rise. Forty days at Jesus' feet Hide we now in blest retreat. At their close through Holy Week, We His way of sorrow seek, Entering first Jerusalem, While the throngs His progress hem, And with shouts of welcome press Zion's lowly King to bless, Scattering palms along His way

On that one triumphant Day. Though they shout, He weeps aloud O'er the self-deceiving crowd. Through that Week we see Him bear Anguish none can know or share; On Good Friday follow Him Scourged and bruised in every limb, And with thorns in insult crowned. While the foes that Him surround Gibes and jeers incessant toss On the Altar of the Cross, We behold Him meekly die For the world's iniquity. Every Friday for His sake Let us here our station take, At His feet confession making, Self and sin abhorred foraking.

Easter-Even: Hour of rest; Faith's sweet vigil calm and blest. In the tomb His Body lies, And His Soul in Paradise Waits the morn when He shall rise. Here we watch and watching ponder On the never-lessened wonder, How from Baptism we emerge On the new life's trembling verge, In His death the "old man" dead And the "new man" raised instead.

Henceforth now be crucified All our anger, lust, and pride Every evil passion die, Mortified continually!

Easter-Day: The "day of days:" Radiance immortal plays Round the sepulchre whose door, Open now can close no more! Stricken guard and broken seal To our longing eyes reveal What the glorious Angel saith Who unbarred that gate of death: "He is risen; do not fear; Jesus is no longer here; But in lowly Galilee Ye again your Lord shall see." Swift, with Alleluias sweet, Follow we His holy feet, Singing all the joyful way: "Christ the Lord has risen to-day!"

Precious Easter-Tide: Again Jesus walks the ways of men; In a body glorified, Yet the very same that died, Pierced in hand b and feet, and side; And we know in His own time We shall share that change sublime.

Forty days, most wondrous days! He in word and act displays Sign and miracle, the keys Of His Kingdom's mysteries.

On the great Ascension Day, When those Forty Days are ended, With His holy hands extended, Leading forth His chosen, pressing To receive His final blessing, We behold Him pass away In a cloud of glory rise, Vanishing from mortal eyes. Once again the Angels fair, Tidings wonderful declare; He shall come again, they say, As ye saw Him go away.

While our hearts within us burn, With His chosen now we turn And obedient with them Go we to Jerusalem, There in expectation sweet To wait the Promised Paraclete— The Holy Ghost, whose tongues of fire Shall illumine and inspire. Lo! He comes on Whitsun-Day, The Holy Ghost for whom we pray, And on rushing, mighty wings,

Gift of seven-fold gifts he brings, And His coming marks the birth Of the Holy Church on earth. Now our Jesus' mission ended, Be our triune praises blended To the Father and the Son And the Holy Ghost in One. Holy! Holy! Holy! cry On the Feast of Trinity; And till Advent comes again Alleluia be our strain!

Jesus, my Refuge

And oh, how loving, dearest Lord, how tender Beyond all love Thou When to Thy feet we cling in full surrender, With sorrow-broken heart!

Absolving, healing, strengthening, uniting, Through sacramental grace, And to communion closer yet inviting, Thou dost unveil Thy face.

For faith alone low-kneeling in contrition The load of sin grows light; To faith alone Thou dost vouchsafe that vision, And faith is almost sight.

The House of God

Within these wails what peace! (Christ is our Peace) What silence reigns where earthly noises cease! Silence wherethrough we almost hear the sound Of angels thronging all the sacred ground.

Here at the portal pause and reverent gaze: A holy order all the place displays. The triple length, the triple breadth and height Proclaim one mystery to the wondering sight, That, scaling pillar, arch, and window fair, Seeks the vast roof to find the One God there; Then from that lofty height in awe descends To mark how majesty with mercy blends; In nave and choir and transept arms stretched wide, Behold the symbol of the Crucified; And in the kneeling throng, in mystery, His Body one with Him its Head on high, Sharing His Cross to share at last His Crown,— The Life He won for us through life laid down.

See, many-hued and glorious the beams Of heavenly light that on the darkness streams, Reveals the blazoned pane, and lends a glow To recess dim and shadowed aisle below; An ever-shifting, never-changing flood, To touch our every sense, our every mood; As the sweet Gospel answers every need And on our darkness pours the light indeed!

Here stands the Font, placed just within the door, To say to all who pass the threshold o'er: e who the Church of God would enter, know One only way our Saviour Christ did show— By holy baptism; this the lowly gate For helpless infancy and man's estate; For since God's grace alone can lead them in, Wisdom and age like babes must entrance win. Here stands the Font, and here the Heavenly Dove Its depths to sanctify, on wings of love Hovers unseen. Beneath this cleansing wave Doth God regenerate whom He world save; Through this fair tide He calleth all to pass Into His Kingdom; this the sea of glass Before His altar-throne that far away Beyond the nave, the choir, in fair array, Within the rood-screen lifts its gleaming height, And floods the space around with sacred light, As the White Throne and He who sits thereon Fill Heaven with majesty above the sun. And like the rainbow round the Throne appear The changing colors of the Christian year As all the holy seasons come and go, And o'er the Altar hues symbolic throw: Violet when mourns the Church a penitent Through solemn fasts of Advent and of Lent, And all the lesser vigils that she keeps When o'er her sins for Jesus' sake she weeps; Through Christmas-, Easter-, and Ascension-tide

And many a holy-day that falls beside, Symbol of purity, of joy, of light, Of victory and peace, white,—shining white; And red for Whitsun-tide, the hue of flame, Red for the saints who martyrs too became While green, that tells of hope that cannot die, Greets the exultant gaze through Trinity. Once, only once, though all the changing year (Save for some burial hour) doth black appear; As Jesus bore our sins upon the Tree, That Day the altar draped in woe we see. Elsewhere two colors changing not abound On frescoed walls and pictured saints surround, The blue of heavenly truth, the burning red of holy ardor,—these the Church have led Through martyr fires and persecutions dread; And all unclouded still the Truth doth shine, Still glows the ardor, fed by grace divine. Eastward the nave extending mutely saith: Lo, there He rose triumphant over death; The Light of light, the Sun of Righteousness, Whom nations long in darkness hid confess. Thence He with all His angels shall descend In the Great Day when time itself shall end Ever through solemn fast and gladsome feast The Church expectant worships toward the east, In prayers and praises mingling joy and dread Of Him who comes to judge both quick and dead, Who doth a place beside His Throne prepare

For her, His Bride, to be exalted there, And keeps with her meanwhile His awful tryst Beneath the shadow of the Eucharist. Within the nave the pulpit fair uprears, Whence the glad message whoso hearkens hears; As from the stone forever rolled away The angel of the Resurrection Day Proclaimed the tidings of the Risen Lord, The crowning miracle that should afford No room for doubt, and for denial none,— Eternal life, eternal victory won.

The steps from nave to choir that upward lead Teach us humility, and bid us heed How we regard the Heaven-appointed priest Who at the altar serves; though he be least 'Mong men, he standeth in the Lord's own stead When in His Name he breaks the holy Bread, And with the Hidden Manna duly feeds The hungry flock that follows where he leads. Yea, in the Name and Person of the Lord He breaks the Bread and he proclaims the Word; 'T is from his hand thee stream Baptismal flows, Pardon he speaks and peace, Christ's peace, bestows.

Within the choir mark first the lectern stand, The stalls and prayer-desks ranged on either hand; Here lies the Holy Book whose mysteries

Are sealed to many a scholar great and wise, But to the children of the Kingdom yield The priceless treasures even on earth revealed. Fair and more fair behold the place appear As to the holiest our feet draw near; Each least detail how beautiful to trace, And learn the moulding touch of Heavenly grace. See, too, how oft the varied cross we find, That pleads on every hand, Leave all behind. Three steps again ascending seem to say, Thus must the pilgrim mount the Heavenward way; By faith, hope, charity,—these three; The last is first; the chiefest, charity, Whose one supremest height He reached alone As Man who only could for man atone. As unto Christ both Priest and Sacrifice The earth's wide ends must turn their countless eyes, So on the altar all the temple waits; Here vision centres, worship culminates. To this His shrine the Church adoring brings Her richest gifts, her choicest offerings; Her tribute gold, her myrrh of penitence, And in her praise the precious frankincense. And ever on "the altar trimmed aright" She tends with loving care each typic light, The God, the Man, unceasing to proclaim, While the mid-cross declares His saving Name.

O House of God! thy beauty half untold Is lost to many an eye that might behold, While many a tongue complains, This might be sold And given to the poor; and men forget How like complaint by Christ Himself was met, And fail to mark how they who fairest make His temple, love His poor for Jesus' sake, In proof whereof they consecrate with care Their gifts to them upon His altar fair, That they with Him and He with them may share.

Jesus, who hadst not where to lay Thy Head When Thou the pathways of Thy poor didst tread, Too mean for Thee the temples that we raise, Though echoing to centuries of praise!

The Vision in the Chalice

Hen lo! in the golden Chalice, Distinct in the purple wine, He saw reflected the image Of the Crucified Form Divine.

Filled with a sudden tremor, His eyes deep fixed on the sight, Scarcely the prayer he followed Or knew if he said it aright.

Trembling with adoration He lifted the Chalice high, As upholding the sacred Burden Between the earth and the sky.

And still when the Chalice he lowered, Distinct in the purple wine, From the chancel windows reflected He saw the Image Divine.

Did he hear in the hush that followed The words of the Lord anew, Brought down by the Church through the ages, The mystical charge, "This do"?

Did he hear from the Holy of holies, The secret, eternal shrine, The Priest who is Priest forever Renew the assurance divine?—

"Lo! I am with you alway, Blessing the Cup float you bless; Under the Bread you have broken My Presence proclaim and confess.

Lo! I am with you alway, Mine own command to fulfil; I am the Sacrifice offered, The Priest and the Victim still.

Lo! I am with you alway, Feeding. the flock that you feed, My Flesh the manna unfailing, My Blood the drink indeed."

O blessed, O wondrous commission! It seemed to the lowly priest Like a precious new revelation, As he shared with his flock float Feast.

And ever enshrined in his bosom lie treasures with holy awe The memory of the vision That veiled in the Chalice he saw.

Interrupted Zeal

The world is just ad full of woe, For sin in hand with grief must go; But now the world seems distant grown, And I unheeded and alone.

Ah! now Thou dost Thy will reveal To interrupt my restless zeal, That I in solitude may heed My own, my all-surpassing need.

"Much serving" often hinders love, And care forgetfulness may prove; The busy hand may cheat the heart That else might choose the better part.

Who waits in holy idleness Can never learn to serve Thee less, But rather learns how poor, how vain, Is all he hath accounted gain.

Strive as I may, my every toil Some lurking vanity will spoil; Self-love doth ever enter in To steal what I for Thee may win.

Then give me, Lord, no work to-day, But give what none can take away,— The portion everymore most sweet, To sit like Mary at Thy feet.

And quicken Thou my inward ear That I like her Thy Word may hear In inward silence that shall drown All voices other than Thine own.

The soul that seeks no end but this The end of zeal can never miss, But even amidst her toil shall be In holy solitude with Thee.

The Divine Purpose

But Thou, O Saviour pitiful, Who seest us so blind and dull, Constrainest us with mercies still To seek alone Thy Holy Will.

Oh, soon or late how sweet to learn It is that Will for which we yearn, When yielding to its sway Divine We have no wish apart from Thine!

"Jesus, the Ladder of my Faith"

Let not the world's rude conflict drown The charmèd music of Thy voice That calls all weary ones to rest, And bids all mourning souls rejoice.

"The Communion of Saints"

Fight as they, forsaking all; Rack nor cross could them appall. Warfare or within, without, In their ears was victory's shout; Whatso treasure they possessed Dross became through Christ confessed, Poverty was wealth, and pain Pledge of everlasting gain; Bitterness was sweet to taste; Torture slow was heavenly haste; While their Captain glorious, Over all victorious, Fought with them, and in His strength Made them conquerors at length.

Now, as then, the battle rages; Christians still the Foe engages; Though he colors change and name, Is that deadly Foe the same. Seven-fold the might he wields O'er the victim soul that yields; But with seven-fold armor clad, Shall the true and valiant smite, And put the evil powers to flight; While the tidings, swift and glad, Ring through all the realms of light Where the Church's grand procession From her holy ranks below Daily swelled in calm possession

Waits the final overthrow Of the fierce but doomèd Foe.

Not with open, loud assault Draws the Adversary near; Oft advancing seems to halt, Now through flattery, now through fear; Under cover of the night Darkness makes he fair as light; Now through pomp and now through pride Lures he many a soul aside; Now through ease he whispereth, Every word a shaft of death; Through the flesh unceasingly Do his secret arrows fly; In the heart he refuge takes, And his strongest stronghold makes.

Watch and pray, the Church entreats, And those chiefest names repeats Of the Army of the Lord, Us examples to afford. Watch and pray, the Church entreats; Stand ye fast and be ye strong; Imitate my glorious throng. They my firm foundations made, Christ Himself the corner-stone; Ye as living stones are laid, Age by age and one by one,

Pledged the Faith to keep, thereon. Joined together each and all As a temple mystical, Let your holy unity Mirror each and each the whole, While the waves that round you roll Of unbelief and heresy Vainly my foundations try.

Watch and pray, my children, saith Holy Church. Be true till death To the once-delivered Faith; With each other one, and one With the hosts whose toil is done,. All my faithful souls and true Who have passed beyond your sight! Let their ardor quicken you As ye press toward realms of light, Where in Paradise they wait, While the angel-guarded gate Ceaseless swings, to usher in Souls redeemed from death and sin. Ever through that viewless door One unbroken throng they pour,— One unbroken, moving column Through that entrance sweet and solemn, Night and day, and day and night, From the shadow to the light; From the cross that each lays down

To the "passionless renown," Robe of white, and palm, and crown. Night and day, and day and night, Countless souls in grand procession, One in Faith's sublime confession With file lesser ranks below Moving still against the Foe; One in Hope no change can blight, Linked in mutual intercession; One in Love's eternal might, Knit together each with all In His Body mystical; One in Christ the Living Head, Of whose Life ye all partake, By whose grace ye all are fed And the one Communion make. Ye my little ones and lowly; Hid on earth in mean disguise, One with all my martyrs holy, Spotless robed in Paradise. Ye who in fire thick of striving Fight my battles undismayed, By the proud world's proud contriving Of no reputation made, One with them, the virgin throng, Singing now the Lamb's New Song. Ye who suffer all temptation, Sin's assaults and tribulation, Overcoming all unseen,

One with my Confessors brave Who have passed to realms serene. Where the palms of victory wave. There the first Apostles grand, Chiefest-crowned, a glorious band, There the angels bright that gather All the saints of God around, With the ever-blessed Mother Over all my hosts renowned, Welcome each and each the other As the tide of souls rolls in, And the songs anew begin That forever shall resound: Glory, honor, power, blessing, Wisdom, might, and praise unceasing To the King of kings addressing, Toward whose Kingdom still increasing Earth's remotest ends are pressing.

The Communion of the Sick

How often when the gracious Cup From me has passed, have I beheld Thee lift the weary sufferer up To drink the hidden stream that welled!

How often have I seen the face Beneath thy blessing brighter grow When the poor soul received the peace Thou art commissioned to bestow!

And ever springs this thought of mine: Jesus, how gracious Thou to come Not only to Thy temple's shrine But even to the meanest home!

And who am I, that unto me Occasions fall that others miss? But, Lord, my need is known to Thee Thy answer must be hid in this!

O priest beloved! to Him I owe For these unwonted hours of grace Such love as deeds can never show; Pray that my love may grow apace!

To follow on thy lowly rounds, Oh, pray that I may worthier be, And where Christ's suffering ones are found Still, for His sake, make room for me.

A Hymn of Adoration

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Lamb once slain!

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Victim, Priest, and :Lord; Endless satisfaction Endlessly adored; Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Saviour, Lord!

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Name of names most sweet Tremble with thanksgiving, Tongue that may repeat— Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Name most sweet.

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, God of God art Thou; Low in adoration At Thy Name we bow; Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, God are Thou!

Father, Son, and Spirit, Blessed Three in One Whose unending praises Never were begun; Holy, Holy, Holy, Three in One!

"Give us this Day our Daily Bread"

It is for Thee, for Thee alone, Who art beyond all language dear; In life, in death, Thou only One Who stoopest low, who drawest near; For Thee I hunger day by day, And pray the more the more I pray.

Come, Daily Bread of gracious taste; Sweet Manna endlessly supplied; Thou hidden Joy that cannot waste; Our Wayside Strength, however tried Come, Blessed Jesus, day by day, Lest we should faint beside the way!

Come, God and Saviour, to Thine own Revealed to Faith's anointed eyes, Make Thou Thy very Presence known Though veiled in holy mysteries; And oh!—the sum of all I pray— Sweep Thou at last the veil away!

His Rest

But when the heart grows sick with pain, The burden sore, And all our labor seems in vain, And o'er and o'er The sin we fight Returns with might;

When loss and sickness touch us close, And death draws near To take not us, perhaps, but those Than self more dear; When some swift blow Doth lay us low;

Or long discouragement or strife Doth wear away The ardor and the joy of life, Do what we may; And many woes Our doubts disclose—

Far more than glories unconceived Beyond the grave, His rest in whom we have believed Is what we crave: By night and day For rest we pray.

O blessed world! we cry, uncrossed By grief or sin, How will these souls now tempted, tossed, Rejoice to win Those shores that shine With Peace divine!

Jesus, most tried, most tempted One, Dear sinless Lord, What toil was Thine beneath the sun! By scourge and cord, And bitter food, And cruel rood,

That Heavenly Rest for us was bought; And, oh! that we Might count our light affliction nought In following Thee, And here below Its sweetness know!

That sweetness, dearest Lord, at least One hour may bring, When to Thy Presence in the Feast Divine we cling, And wondrously Commune with Thee!

O precious foretaste, Heaven brought near, Within our reach, When, though no glory doth appear Surpassing speech, The soul oppressed Finds here Thy Rest!

Advent Song of the Faithful

In His love our lives we hide— He will come; By His promises abide, For He will come. Our inheritance is sure; Marvel ye that we endure?

Watch ye all beneath the sun— He will come!— Winning what ye ne'er have won When He shall come; Better things than life hath brought, Greater things than time hath wrought.

Life and time will fleet away; He will come; Then your nay must still be nay When He is come; Till that day He intercedes; Still as on His cross tie pleads.

Watch! and if the hours seem long Till He come, Sing with us Faith's perfect song: "Lord Jesus, come!" Sweet, oh, sweet the time if we Watching, faithful grow as He!

The Annunciation

Dear Mother of the Lord's own choice, He comes in whom thou dost "rejoice,"— Thy Saviour and thy God, to be Rocked as thy Babe upon thy knee.

O Mary, Maid of Nazareth, Not only hath Elizabeth Proclaimed thee "blessed;" from that day "All generations" "blessed" say.

Yea, blessed as the instrument Of the Almighty's vast intent; And blessed in the purity Wherewith His grace invested thee;

Blessed in meek obedience That bowed to His omnipotence; Blessed in thy surrendered will; In perfect faith more blessed still;

Blessed in thy humility That cast all earthly honors by— The lofty pride of David's line— To worship at thy Saviour's shrine.

Blessed of all His creatures thou Whom with such grace He did endow That all thy earthly life was spent Like one unbroken sacrament.

Turn we, O Mary, from thy face To praise Him for that wondrous grace, And crave humility like thine Obedient to the Will Divine.

The least in all Thy Kingdom, Lord,— It is Thy own, Thy very word!— The least may do Thy will, and be Like her a follower of Thee.

Too wonderful it seems, indeed; Thy Mother all Thy saints doth lead Can such as we a place attain In the long splendor of that train?

The Nativity

CHRISTMAS POEMS AND CAROLS.

A Saviour, even Christ the Lord, and this shill be the sign— Ye in a manger lowly laid shall find the Babe Divine."

And with the Angel, lo! a host of shining ones was seen Chanting, "All glory be to God, as it hath ever been; Glory to God, on earth be peace, and unto men goad-will," They sang, in splendor vanishing, and all grew dark and still.

Amazed the shepherds heard, and rose and made with haste their way To where, within the stable walls, the world's redeemer lay; Nor wider space nor fairer place had earth to spare for Him Whose Throne from everlasting burned, rayed round with seraphim.

While softly mining out of heaven, in silver cadences Flowed down those sweet angelic strains proclaiming joy and peace;