The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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TWO CHRISTMAS SONGS
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
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TWO CHRISTMAS SONGS
I. SONG OF THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM
Lo! this night the Lord descending
Comes on earth to dwell.
Evil's bitter reign is ending,
And the power of hell.
Comes on earth to dwell.
Evil's bitter reign is ending,
And the power of hell.
Neither Greek nor Roman poet,
Great-souled though they be,
Read God's secret.—Who shall know it?
Darkness, or the sea?
Great-souled though they be,
Read God's secret.—Who shall know it?
Darkness, or the sea?
Greek and Roman, full of learning,
Full of strength and might,
Sought for God, their strong hearts yearning
Godward in the night.
Full of strength and might,
Sought for God, their strong hearts yearning
Godward in the night.
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Wise men worshipped God for ages;
Builded temples grand:
Graved their souls on deathless pages;
Wrought in many a land.
Builded temples grand:
Graved their souls on deathless pages;
Wrought in many a land.
All these sought for God, and found him,
In a measure,—each:
Sought for God, and loved, and crowned him;
Secrets all could teach.
In a measure,—each:
Sought for God, and loved, and crowned him;
Secrets all could teach.
But to-night the love immortal
Through the gate of time
Passes: makes life's fleshly portal
Evermore sublime.
Through the gate of time
Passes: makes life's fleshly portal
Evermore sublime.
Woman now is pure for ever,
No more man's sad slave.
Let man's heart disdain her never
Whom God bends to save!
No more man's sad slave.
Let man's heart disdain her never
Whom God bends to save!
Through her sweet lips cometh sorrow
Sometimes—let that be!
When the bright dawn breaks to-morrow
Over land and sea;
Sometimes—let that be!
When the bright dawn breaks to-morrow
Over land and sea;
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When we weary stars are turning
Homeward to our rest;
When the golden sun is burning
On the mountain's crest;
Homeward to our rest;
When the golden sun is burning
On the mountain's crest;
Light yet nobler this shall presage:
For to-morrow morn
Through the world shall thrill the message
“Jesus Christ is born!”
For to-morrow morn
Through the world shall thrill the message
“Jesus Christ is born!”
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II. SONG OF WOMEN-SPIRITS
God at last has heard our crying.
Through the ages past
We have sought him, groaning, sighing:
He has heard at last.
Through the ages past
We have sought him, groaning, sighing:
He has heard at last.
Man has mocked us through the ages,
Goaded to despair.
Poets, thinkers, soldiers, sages,
All have called us fair.
Goaded to despair.
Poets, thinkers, soldiers, sages,
All have called us fair.
All have praised our lips and tresses,
Golden locks or black:
All have sought our love-caresses:
All have held us back.
Golden locks or black:
All have sought our love-caresses:
All have held us back.
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All have checked our souls' aspiring:
All have dreaded this.
This has tired men, never tiring
Of the lips they kiss.
All have dreaded this.
This has tired men, never tiring
Of the lips they kiss.
All have dreaded lest the morning
Which should find us free
Would be wild with note of warning
Rung by land and sea.
Which should find us free
Would be wild with note of warning
Rung by land and sea.
Not one noble soul has trusted;
Roman, Jew, or Greek.
Many and many a sword had rusted,
Had they let us speak!
Roman, Jew, or Greek.
Many and many a sword had rusted,
Had they let us speak!
Many and many a fierce old quarrel
Had been lulled to rest!
Ours the myrtle, man's the laurel,
Man's the battle-crest.
Had been lulled to rest!
Ours the myrtle, man's the laurel,
Man's the battle-crest.
Half the spears that maddening hurtle
Through the loud rent air
Still had rested, had our myrtle
Seemed to man's heart fair!
Through the loud rent air
Still had rested, had our myrtle
Seemed to man's heart fair!
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Had man listened to our pleading,
To our agelong cry,
Battle-fields where he lay bleeding,
Waiting there to die,
To our agelong cry,
Battle-fields where he lay bleeding,
Waiting there to die,
Had been fields of corn and clover,
Full of peace supreme:
Had but man, our agelong lover,
Listened to our dream!
Full of peace supreme:
Had but man, our agelong lover,
Listened to our dream!
For our dream is sweet and holy,
Full of peace and grace.
Slowly, slowly,—slowly, slowly,—
We shall win our place.
Full of peace and grace.
Slowly, slowly,—slowly, slowly,—
We shall win our place.
We shall win man's adoration
In a nobler sphere,
Rule through him some future nation:
For our Prince is here.
In a nobler sphere,
Rule through him some future nation:
For our Prince is here.
God, in sending Christ, is sending
Woman victory.
God at last is mixing, blending,
Strength and purity.
Woman victory.
God at last is mixing, blending,
Strength and purity.
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Not their old song-god Apollo,
Bright of face and limb,
Is the god for us to follow:
Nay! we need not him.
Bright of face and limb,
Is the god for us to follow:
Nay! we need not him.
Songs are sweet, and singers sweeter:
Full of charm was each
Old-world bard, and old-world metre,
Yet they fail to reach
Full of charm was each
Old-world bard, and old-world metre,
Yet they fail to reach
Woman's soul as Christ's deep phrases
Reach her heart and ear.
Every word of his amazes:
Rings out pure and clear.
Reach her heart and ear.
Every word of his amazes:
Rings out pure and clear.
Woman loves at last—who waited
Through the ages long,
Weary, saddened, worn, ill-mated,
Void of heart for song.
Through the ages long,
Weary, saddened, worn, ill-mated,
Void of heart for song.
God, who gave the generations
Of the past most dim
Unto man, gives future nations
Not, oh not, to him!
Of the past most dim
Unto man, gives future nations
Not, oh not, to him!
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Woman's is the future season.
Christ's and woman's day
Dawns at last: the end of treason,
Swords and spears that slay.
Christ's and woman's day
Dawns at last: the end of treason,
Swords and spears that slay.
Lord, we thank thee that thou hearest
Woman's piteous prayer.
Christ's chief word, his message clearest,
Sweetest and most fair,
Woman's piteous prayer.
Christ's chief word, his message clearest,
Sweetest and most fair,
Is the news that woman never
Now need dread man's scorn.
Woman now is safe for ever:
Jesus Christ is born!
Now need dread man's scorn.
Woman now is safe for ever:
Jesus Christ is born!
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |