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OTHER DEVOTIONAL POEMS
30
CREDO
What is our God, the God we own,
Before whose feet in spirit we fall;
Who makes, preserves, destroys alone,
And fills all by containing all;
Who is from all eternity,
In whom we breathe and move and be?
Before whose feet in spirit we fall;
Who makes, preserves, destroys alone,
And fills all by containing all;
Who is from all eternity,
In whom we breathe and move and be?
The Lord of Hosts, the Prince of Peace,
Whose eyes unerring look upon
High angelhood that veils to bless
The Holy, Holy, Holy One;
And manhood in the germ, that yet
Shall be in Godlike splendour set.
Whose eyes unerring look upon
High angelhood that veils to bless
The Holy, Holy, Holy One;
And manhood in the germ, that yet
Shall be in Godlike splendour set.
They war, His angels and His men,
Or in deep peace they do His will;
Its meaning high above their ken,
Guessing or not, they do it still,
Through past and now and future rolled
In æons never to be told.
Or in deep peace they do His will;
Its meaning high above their ken,
Guessing or not, they do it still,
Through past and now and future rolled
In æons never to be told.
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We raise the stone, and Him we find;
We cleave the wood, and He is there;
We see Him through the tears that blind,
We touch with lifted hands of prayer;
Before His altar, on His sod,
We know our Lover and our God.
We cleave the wood, and He is there;
We see Him through the tears that blind,
We touch with lifted hands of prayer;
Before His altar, on His sod,
We know our Lover and our God.
A King of dreadful majesty,
A King of love more dreadful yet;
In whom the world's foundations be,
Whose eyes with human tears were wet;
The Lord of Life, who lay alone,
A corpse behind a sealéd stone.
A King of love more dreadful yet;
In whom the world's foundations be,
Whose eyes with human tears were wet;
The Lord of Life, who lay alone,
A corpse behind a sealéd stone.
He took the measure of a span
Who filleth all infinitude;
Maker of man, and very Man;
Immortal dying on a Rood;
And all Creation's heart is bowed
To this her God who wore her shroud.
Who filleth all infinitude;
Maker of man, and very Man;
Immortal dying on a Rood;
And all Creation's heart is bowed
To this her God who wore her shroud.
And more, yet more; from glory won,
Magnificence inherited,
He stoops to hold communion
With man in veils of wine and bread;
O height of love! O love's abyss!
Man face to face with God in this!
Magnificence inherited,
He stoops to hold communion
With man in veils of wine and bread;
O height of love! O love's abyss!
Man face to face with God in this!
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Before the angels' joyful shout,
Or morning stars' high harmonies;
Before the birth of faith or doubt,
Ere Death, contending for the prize,
In wrestling fierce with Life had striven,
The Love-begotten Love was given.
Or morning stars' high harmonies;
Before the birth of faith or doubt,
Ere Death, contending for the prize,
In wrestling fierce with Life had striven,
The Love-begotten Love was given.
If million after million
Of years rolled o'er the world, His thought,
Yet in the time of ripeness won
He for whom time and space are nought,
Infinitude, Eternity,
Hung, time-revealed, upon a Tree.
Of years rolled o'er the world, His thought,
Yet in the time of ripeness won
He for whom time and space are nought,
Infinitude, Eternity,
Hung, time-revealed, upon a Tree.
If millions more uncounted fall
Slow down Eternity's abyss,
Before this God be all in all,
What betwixt Him and man is this?
With Him no future is, no past
But one great now, for aye to last.
Slow down Eternity's abyss,
Before this God be all in all,
What betwixt Him and man is this?
With Him no future is, no past
But one great now, for aye to last.
He doeth that, and suffereth
Its doing, which we tremble at;
Lets slip the dogs of war and death;
Binds fast with iron chains and great;
One nation crowns with glory; one
Putteth to sore confusion.
Its doing, which we tremble at;
Lets slip the dogs of war and death;
Binds fast with iron chains and great;
One nation crowns with glory; one
Putteth to sore confusion.
Yet Love, in veil of mystery,
Is He; no cruel Fate and stark
Which grips the trembling souls that lie
And shudder in their lonely dark;
Or at some dreadful Presence guess,
More dreadful than the loneliness.
Is He; no cruel Fate and stark
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And shudder in their lonely dark;
Or at some dreadful Presence guess,
More dreadful than the loneliness.
O Thou, considering tenderly
The feeble tongues that lisp Thy state,
The wavering souls that stay on Thee,
By gentleness of Thine made great;
Love, Love, and Love, revealed, unknown,
Thee we adore and Thee we own!
The feeble tongues that lisp Thy state,
The wavering souls that stay on Thee,
By gentleness of Thine made great;
Love, Love, and Love, revealed, unknown,
Thee we adore and Thee we own!
31
THE SPIRIT INDEED IS WILLING, BUT THE
FLESH IS WEAK
O three He calls to watch with Him close by the reddening sod
Where drops the sweat of agony, the agony of God.
Where drops the sweat of agony, the agony of God.
O three of watch in sleep forgone, your flesh too weak will prove;
And angelhood shall comfort Him, and not your human love.
And angelhood shall comfort Him, and not your human love.
And more, yet more; the hour draws nigh, the traitor's This is He.
The kiss, the clash of swords and clubs, and ye to turn and flee.
The kiss, the clash of swords and clubs, and ye to turn and flee.
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And one of you with curse and oath will e'en deny the Friend
Who, loving in the world His own, had loved them to the end.
Who, loving in the world His own, had loved them to the end.
And one alone, to-morrow noon shall dare the shame and dread,
To stand beneath the cross till all shall be consummated.
To stand beneath the cross till all shall be consummated.
Yet all you three in supreme love and supreme courage high
Shall will to suffer and work for Him, shall dare for Him to die.
Shall will to suffer and work for Him, shall dare for Him to die.
Lord Jesus, Who hast bid Thy friends anear Thee watch to keep,
If earthly heaviness weigh down our eyelids and we sleep,
If earthly heaviness weigh down our eyelids and we sleep,
Speak Thou to us, as once to those Thy gentleness did speak,
The spirit truly wills aright, although the flesh be weak.
The spirit truly wills aright, although the flesh be weak.
Oh, be the spirit willing then, to strive in might afresh,
And let the spirit's might o'ercome the weakness of the flesh.
And let the spirit's might o'ercome the weakness of the flesh.
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Bid us to cast the dread away, to fling the shame aside,
And follow on where these have led, for Thee who lived and died.
And follow on where these have led, for Thee who lived and died.
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GIVER OF LIGHT
Giver of light, the dark was on Thy soul;
Bringer of joy, great woe was at Thy breast;
Weary of limb, Thou giv'st Thy children rest;
Wounded and torn, Thou mak'st Thy children whole.
Gladness they know from Thy most bitter dole,
Food from Thy hunger, holiest drink and best
From thirst of Thine, Thou Love made manifest:
And from Thy crown of thorns their aureole.
Bringer of joy, great woe was at Thy breast;
Weary of limb, Thou giv'st Thy children rest;
Wounded and torn, Thou mak'st Thy children whole.
Gladness they know from Thy most bitter dole,
Food from Thy hunger, holiest drink and best
From thirst of Thine, Thou Love made manifest:
And from Thy crown of thorns their aureole.
O Lord our God, yet darkly do we see;
But still the blood-marked way where Thou didst tread
Shines with a radiance more than morning's red,
Or sunset's flush: and following after Thee
We seek the Resurrection of the dead,
And find the Life of all eternity.
But still the blood-marked way where Thou didst tread
Shines with a radiance more than morning's red,
Or sunset's flush: and following after Thee
We seek the Resurrection of the dead,
And find the Life of all eternity.
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33
SEEKERS
The soul through love that seeketh
Through love will sure attain,
Whether the love bring gladness,
Whether the love bring pain.
Through love will sure attain,
Whether the love bring gladness,
Whether the love bring pain.
To them that knock God opens,
He bids them find who seek;
And one knocks loud and home-like,
And one taps low and weak;
He bids them find who seek;
And one knocks loud and home-like,
And one taps low and weak;
One sees afar in searching;
Another is slow of sight;
One goeth his way unwearied;
Another hath little might.
Another is slow of sight;
One goeth his way unwearied;
Another hath little might.
But each and every seeker
Love-led to make the quest,
Shall know the joy of finding;
In finding shall be blest.
Love-led to make the quest,
Shall know the joy of finding;
In finding shall be blest.
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35
ANY CHILD TO THE NEW-FOUND MOTHER
I
AD MATREM, SANCTAM ECCLESIAM
O my Mother, fair exceeding, with the lovely smile august,
And the true lips, ever pleading for the holy things and just,
To thy little one's great needing Thou hast bent thy gracious heeding,
And hast bidden her to love thee, as she must.
And the true lips, ever pleading for the holy things and just,
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And hast bidden her to love thee, as she must.
For thy love of love has won her, and the Voice Divine has said,
“'Tis the Mother, look upon her, of my living, of my dead!”
And the radiancy and honour of thy chrism, O glorious donor,
And the blessing of thy mouth are on her head.
“'Tis the Mother, look upon her, of my living, of my dead!”
And the radiancy and honour of thy chrism, O glorious donor,
And the blessing of thy mouth are on her head.
Storm-clouds far away have drifted, chased by splendour of thine eyes,
And, with peace and joy fair-gifted, here, thy little child, she lies,
By thine arms of comfort lifted where, upon the Rock unrifted,
God hath set thee, Bride of Jesus, perfectwise.
And, with peace and joy fair-gifted, here, thy little child, she lies,
By thine arms of comfort lifted where, upon the Rock unrifted,
God hath set thee, Bride of Jesus, perfectwise.
In that peace and joy's bestowing, thou hast spoken to her heart,
Saying, “Child, in all thy going let thy brothers' needs have part:
For my strayed, for my unknowing, for my holy saved, still owing,
Mine to love and suffer, pray and trust, thou art.”
Saying, “Child, in all thy going let thy brothers' needs have part:
For my strayed, for my unknowing, for my holy saved, still owing,
Mine to love and suffer, pray and trust, thou art.”
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II
AD MATREM, SANCTUM ECCLESIAM
Sweet my Mother, thou hast called, and I have heard
That which thrilled my soul and stirred;
Yea, mine own beloved, thou hast bid me come
To thy heart, which is my home:
And I lie in happy shelter on thy breast,
As a young bird in its nest.
That which thrilled my soul and stirred;
Yea, mine own beloved, thou hast bid me come
To thy heart, which is my home:
And I lie in happy shelter on thy breast,
As a young bird in its nest.
Dear, I thought another's voice the voice of thee,
That was speaking unto me.
Had I heard thy voice, oh, should I not have known
From all other tone its tone?
Had I ever seen the truth within thine eyes,
I had bid my soul arise;
I had hastened, dare I hope and think, to flee,
Glorious Mother, unto thee!
Thou, my liberal-souled and tender, leav'st unchid
Those who knew not what they did.
That was speaking unto me.
Had I heard thy voice, oh, should I not have known
From all other tone its tone?
Had I ever seen the truth within thine eyes,
I had bid my soul arise;
I had hastened, dare I hope and think, to flee,
Glorious Mother, unto thee!
Thou, my liberal-souled and tender, leav'st unchid
Those who knew not what they did.
Steeped in radiance of thy love, I do not shrink,
O my Mother! as I think
That those kindest, tenderest hands can wield the sword
Of the judgement of the Lord;
Shoot the arrows of His wrath from out His bow,—
Yea, beloved, it is so!
For thy love is as thy Lord's; and thine intent,
In thy sternest punishment,
Is the saving of the souls of His desire,
Holy Mother, as by fire.
Ever one with Him in will, His heart, His bride,
Thou defied art He defied;
Thou beloved art He beloved; and in thy face
Is the fulness of His grace.
O my Mother! as I think
That those kindest, tenderest hands can wield the sword
Of the judgement of the Lord;
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Yea, beloved, it is so!
For thy love is as thy Lord's; and thine intent,
In thy sternest punishment,
Is the saving of the souls of His desire,
Holy Mother, as by fire.
Ever one with Him in will, His heart, His bride,
Thou defied art He defied;
Thou beloved art He beloved; and in thy face
Is the fulness of His grace.
37
TO MY GUARDIAN ANGEL
At Lustleigh, Devon, September.
Angel mine, I am glad to be
Here in this beautiful hill country;
Glad, so glad, to have left the town,
And see the blue instead of the brown.
Oh, such a wonder of purple and blue,
Lovely, my angel, even to you
Who know the ineffable heights that rise
In the smile of God our Father's eyes.
Here in this beautiful hill country;
Glad, so glad, to have left the town,
And see the blue instead of the brown.
Oh, such a wonder of purple and blue,
Lovely, my angel, even to you
Who know the ineffable heights that rise
In the smile of God our Father's eyes.
Tell me, is it not easier far
To be good where space and colouring are,
Here, in the glory of Lustleigh down,
Than far to the east, in London Town?
Friend of the kind, wise brow, I wot
I speak as a child that knoweth not.
But oh, thank God for these hills so dear;
And oh, thank God that He brought me here.
Angel mine, to whom it is given
To know the glorious heights of heaven,
To drink from the undefiléd rills
That rise in the everlasting hills,
Teach me, through these my mortal eyes
Something of them to realize;
Learning, in this my mortal spell,
The invisible things by the visible.
Bid hills of Devon whisper me
Thought of what heaven's fair heights must be,
Those heights that Mary in spirit trod
As she carried the happy news of God
In swiftness all unhurriedly
To her blessed kin of the hill country,
All the while that her spirit fair
Was breathing the dear own-country air
Far above earthly joys and ills,
On the heights of the everlasting hills.
Help me to gain the footing sure
Of those the dear Lord counteth pure,
On the glorious hills that Mary knew,
And ever calleth her children to.
To be good where space and colouring are,
Here, in the glory of Lustleigh down,
Than far to the east, in London Town?
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I speak as a child that knoweth not.
But oh, thank God for these hills so dear;
And oh, thank God that He brought me here.
Angel mine, to whom it is given
To know the glorious heights of heaven,
To drink from the undefiléd rills
That rise in the everlasting hills,
Teach me, through these my mortal eyes
Something of them to realize;
Learning, in this my mortal spell,
The invisible things by the visible.
Bid hills of Devon whisper me
Thought of what heaven's fair heights must be,
Those heights that Mary in spirit trod
As she carried the happy news of God
In swiftness all unhurriedly
To her blessed kin of the hill country,
All the while that her spirit fair
Was breathing the dear own-country air
Far above earthly joys and ills,
On the heights of the everlasting hills.
Help me to gain the footing sure
Of those the dear Lord counteth pure,
On the glorious hills that Mary knew,
And ever calleth her children to.
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38
KEEPING IN GIVING
We lay our hand upon our dearest thing,
And take it to the altar, as we say,
“Lord, here we come Thy calling to obey,
Who would not keep back aught from Thee, our King.
Lo, this our fairest, choicest offering
Before Thy feet with willing heart we lay:
Accept the sacrifice we make to-day,
Accept the best beloved gift we bring.”
And take it to the altar, as we say,
“Lord, here we come Thy calling to obey,
Who would not keep back aught from Thee, our King.
Lo, this our fairest, choicest offering
Before Thy feet with willing heart we lay:
Accept the sacrifice we make to-day,
Accept the best beloved gift we bring.”
But let us well beware lest thought should seek
The ram caught in the briers; some device
Whereby the joy of keeping might be won.
O God, have mercy on Thy children weak,
Who think to offer perfect sacrifice,
Yet crave redemption for the only son.
The ram caught in the briers; some device
Whereby the joy of keeping might be won.
O God, have mercy on Thy children weak,
Who think to offer perfect sacrifice,
Yet crave redemption for the only son.
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THE MASTER'S WILL
Thou new-annealed, who in thy love dost ache
To pour out suffering nard-like on His feet,
'Tis great things thou art fain to do; His wheat
Sow, reap and thresh, nor any wages take;
The stones upon His roadway sit and break;
Panting and thirsty, for the desperate heat,
Or shivering in the heavy wind and sleet;
Only to suffer, suffer for His sake.
To pour out suffering nard-like on His feet,
'Tis great things thou art fain to do; His wheat
Sow, reap and thresh, nor any wages take;
The stones upon His roadway sit and break;
Panting and thirsty, for the desperate heat,
Or shivering in the heavy wind and sleet;
Only to suffer, suffer for His sake.
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And what if thus the Lover of lovers said;
“Not thine the way of brake and tearing brier;
Not thine the torment of the frost and fire;
I give thee gladness, of My passion bred;
I give thee joy; and this is My desire
Thou keep its morning-dew upon thy head.”
“Not thine the way of brake and tearing brier;
Not thine the torment of the frost and fire;
I give thee gladness, of My passion bred;
I give thee joy; and this is My desire
Thou keep its morning-dew upon thy head.”
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IN COMMENDATION
Into the hands that have fashioned the all,
Into the hands that were pierced at Love's call.
The hands of our Father, our Brother, our Friend,
The soul of this brother of ours we commend.
Into the hands that were pierced at Love's call.
The hands of our Father, our Brother, our Friend,
The soul of this brother of ours we commend.
We bless Thee, O Father, for all that was fair
In him of our love, and we lift up our prayer
That, wherever the earth-mist have swept o'er his sight,
Its dark be disperst in Thine infinite light.
In him of our love, and we lift up our prayer
That, wherever the earth-mist have swept o'er his sight,
Its dark be disperst in Thine infinite light.
Thou hearest, O Thou of the ear ever nigh,
As out of the depths unto Thee is our cry
For pardon and health and the ultimate grace
Of the day that is vision of Thee face to face.
As out of the depths unto Thee is our cry
For pardon and health and the ultimate grace
Of the day that is vision of Thee face to face.
Thus, into the hands that have fashioned the all,
Thus, into the hands that were pierced at Love's call,
The hands of our Father, our Brother, our Friend,
The soul of this brother of ours we commend.
Thus, into the hands that were pierced at Love's call,
The hands of our Father, our Brother, our Friend,
The soul of this brother of ours we commend.
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41
MAKE ME LOVE THEE SO
O Jesus, make me love Thee so
I shall not ask, nor care, to know
Where Thou wouldst have me go.
I shall not ask, nor care, to know
Where Thou wouldst have me go.
I would, my Lord, my God, I were
Like those true souls that have no care
Except Thy life to share,
Like those true souls that have no care
Except Thy life to share,
And love Thee in that perfectness
Of self-surrender Thou wilt bless
With calm in toil and stress.
Of self-surrender Thou wilt bless
With calm in toil and stress.
Like them indeed I cannot be;
I cannot love Thee worthily;
Yet, Jesus, look on me.
I cannot love Thee worthily;
Yet, Jesus, look on me.
Break Thou my heart with that sweet look
Which, more than bitterest rebuke,
Can pierce who Thee forsook:
Which, more than bitterest rebuke,
Can pierce who Thee forsook:
And heal the heart deep-wounded thus
With Thy sweet comfort luminous,
Dear Heart, pierced through for us.
With Thy sweet comfort luminous,
Dear Heart, pierced through for us.
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THE LADY COURTESY
Whence art thou, O thou Lady Courtesy?
What strain illustrious hath given thee birth?
Was a High-King thy father? Did our earth
Give a High-Queen the grace of bearing thee?
What court hath reared thee, so exceedingly
Beautiful in transcendency of worth
That shames the praise whose fulness is but dearth.
Tell us thy lineage and thine own country.
What strain illustrious hath given thee birth?
Was a High-King thy father? Did our earth
Give a High-Queen the grace of bearing thee?
What court hath reared thee, so exceedingly
Beautiful in transcendency of worth
That shames the praise whose fulness is but dearth.
Tell us thy lineage and thine own country.
Love is my father, Charity my mother.
Of these great two-in-one begotten and borne,
I came to earth with song o' the sons of morn,
Whose sister am I; and each, beloved brother.
Yea, I am of a Court unearthly fair;
All-courteous God hath presence-chamber there.
Of these great two-in-one begotten and borne,
I came to earth with song o' the sons of morn,
Whose sister am I; and each, beloved brother.
Yea, I am of a Court unearthly fair;
All-courteous God hath presence-chamber there.
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