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107
LADDERS TO HEAVEN
109
GOOD FRIDAY, A.D. 33
Mother, why are people crowding now and staring?
Child, it is a malefactor goes to His doom,
To the high hill of Calvary He's faring,
And the people pressing and pushing to make room
Lest they miss the sight to come.
Child, it is a malefactor goes to His doom,
To the high hill of Calvary He's faring,
And the people pressing and pushing to make room
Lest they miss the sight to come.
Oh, the poor malefactor, heavy is His load!
Now He falls beneath it and they goad Him on.
Sure the road to Calvary's a steep up-hill road—
Is there none to help Him with His Cross—not one?
Must He bear it all alone?
Now He falls beneath it and they goad Him on.
Sure the road to Calvary's a steep up-hill road—
Is there none to help Him with His Cross—not one?
Must He bear it all alone?
Here is a country boy with business in the city,
Smelling of the cattle's breath and the sweet hay;
Now they bid him lift the Cross, so they have some pity:
Child, they fear the malefactor dies on the way
And robs them of their play.
Smelling of the cattle's breath and the sweet hay;
Now they bid him lift the Cross, so they have some pity:
Child, they fear the malefactor dies on the way
And robs them of their play.
110
Has He no friends then, no father nor mother,
None to wipe the sweat away nor pity His fate?
There's a woman weeping and there's none to soothe her:
Child, it is well the seducer expiate
His crimes that are so great.
None to wipe the sweat away nor pity His fate?
There's a woman weeping and there's none to soothe her:
Child, it is well the seducer expiate
His crimes that are so great.
Mother, did I dream He once bent above me,
This poor seducer with the thorn-crowned head,
His hands on my hair and His eyes seemed to love me?
Suffer little children to come to Me, He said—
His hair, his brows drip red.
This poor seducer with the thorn-crowned head,
His hands on my hair and His eyes seemed to love me?
Suffer little children to come to Me, He said—
His hair, his brows drip red.
Hurrying through Jerusalem on business or pleasure
People hardly pause to see Him go to His death
Whom they held five days ago more than a King's treasure,
Shouting Hosannas, flinging many a wreath
For this Jesus of Nazareth.
People hardly pause to see Him go to His death
Whom they held five days ago more than a King's treasure,
Shouting Hosannas, flinging many a wreath
For this Jesus of Nazareth.
111
DISTRACTION
When swarms of small distractions harry
Devotion like the gnats that fly
Till prayers are cold and customary,
Not such as please Thee, Heaven-high.
Devotion like the gnats that fly
Till prayers are cold and customary,
Not such as please Thee, Heaven-high.
When I forget for all my striving
Thy presence holy and august,
Be Thou not angry, but forgiving
To her Thou madest from the dust.
Thy presence holy and august,
Be Thou not angry, but forgiving
To her Thou madest from the dust.
Say to Thyself: This mortal being,
So deaf, so blind, so prone to sin,
Has glimpses of Me without seeing
The places where the nails went in.
So deaf, so blind, so prone to sin,
Has glimpses of Me without seeing
The places where the nails went in.
Say: Through the crusts of earth, My creature
Perceives Me, hails Me Lord above;
Rumours of the lost innocence reach her,
With full assurance of My love.
Perceives Me, hails Me Lord above;
Rumours of the lost innocence reach her,
With full assurance of My love.
112
Say: Of all marvels I have fashioned
Is none more wonderful and new
As that this thing should go impassioned
For heights beyond her mortal view.
Is none more wonderful and new
As that this thing should go impassioned
For heights beyond her mortal view.
What though her mind should play and ponder
On small things meet for such as she!
O love! O loyalty! O wonder!
That in the darkness gropes for Me.
On small things meet for such as she!
O love! O loyalty! O wonder!
That in the darkness gropes for Me.
113
THE DESERTED
Thou Who wert kindest of the kind—
Since out of sight is out of mind—
There's none to do Thee kindnesses
In Thy last anguish and distress.
Thou art left all alone, alone.
Where are Thy faithful lovers flown?
Since out of sight is out of mind—
There's none to do Thee kindnesses
In Thy last anguish and distress.
Thou art left all alone, alone.
Where are Thy faithful lovers flown?
Where is the multitude that fed,
With loaves and fishes comfortèd?
The blind Thou mad'st to see? the lame
That walked? the one leper who came
Of nine made clean? The dumb that spoke?
Where are they—all Thy loving folk?
With loaves and fishes comfortèd?
The blind Thou mad'st to see? the lame
That walked? the one leper who came
Of nine made clean? The dumb that spoke?
Where are they—all Thy loving folk?
How is it they have naught to say?
Where's Lazarus risen from the clay?
Where is the widow of Nain? where
Jairus's daughter, small and fair?
Judas has sold Thee to Thy foes,
And Peter weeps while the cock crows.
Where's Lazarus risen from the clay?
Where is the widow of Nain? where
Jairus's daughter, small and fair?
Judas has sold Thee to Thy foes,
And Peter weeps while the cock crows.
114
Simon will help Thee on Thy road
Unwillingly—ah, Lamb of God!
Thou bearest the world's weight up that hill,
And none to help Thee with good will;
Stumbling and falling, while Thy hurt
Makes for the rabble noble sport.
Unwillingly—ah, Lamb of God!
Thou bearest the world's weight up that hill,
And none to help Thee with good will;
Stumbling and falling, while Thy hurt
Makes for the rabble noble sport.
But yet there's balm in Gilead,
For here's His Mother, sweet and sad,
Here's Magdalen weeping, and with them
The women of Jerusalem;
They have run all the way since one
Brought them the news: He's not alone!
For here's His Mother, sweet and sad,
Here's Magdalen weeping, and with them
The women of Jerusalem;
They have run all the way since one
Brought them the news: He's not alone!
Veronica is nothing loth
To wipe His poor face with her cloth.
His Mother's by Him and St. John,
With many a starry legion;
Magdalen's hair is round His feet,
Her tears wash off the blood and sweat.
To wipe His poor face with her cloth.
His Mother's by Him and St. John,
With many a starry legion;
Magdalen's hair is round His feet,
Her tears wash off the blood and sweat.
Thou Who wert kindest of the kind,
Though out of sight be out of mind—
Thou art not forgot: by land and sea
The broken hearts come home to Thee,
And bear Thine anguish and Thy grief
Till the Third Day shall bring relief.
Though out of sight be out of mind—
115
The broken hearts come home to Thee,
And bear Thine anguish and Thy grief
Till the Third Day shall bring relief.
116
LENTEN COMMUNION
Rest in a friend's house, Dear, I pray:
The way is long to Good Friday,
And very chill and grey the way.
The way is long to Good Friday,
And very chill and grey the way.
No crocus with its shining cup,
Nor the gold daffodil is up,—
Nothing is here save the snowdrop.
Nor the gold daffodil is up,—
Nothing is here save the snowdrop.
Sit down with me and taste good cheer:
Too soon, too soon, Thy Passion's here;
The wind is keen and the skies drear.
Too soon, too soon, Thy Passion's here;
The wind is keen and the skies drear.
Sit by my fire and break my bread.
Yea, from Thy dish may I be fed,
And under Thy feet my hair spread!
Yea, from Thy dish may I be fed,
And under Thy feet my hair spread!
Lord, in the quiet, chill and sweet,
Let me pour water for Thy feet,
While the crowd goes by in the street,
Let me pour water for Thy feet,
While the crowd goes by in the street,
117
Why wouldst Thou dream of spear or sword,
Or of the ingrate rabble, Lord?
There is no sound save the song of a bird.
Or of the ingrate rabble, Lord?
There is no sound save the song of a bird.
Let us sit down and talk at ease
About Thy Father's business.
(What shouts were those borne on the breeze?)
About Thy Father's business.
(What shouts were those borne on the breeze?)
Nay, Lord, it cannot be for Thee
They raise the tallest cross of the three
On yon dark Mount of Calvary!
They raise the tallest cross of the three
On yon dark Mount of Calvary!
So soon, so soon, the hour's flown!
The glory's dying: Thou art gone
Out on Thy lonely way, alone.
The glory's dying: Thou art gone
Out on Thy lonely way, alone.
118
THE TEST
Love has moods: and I am cold,
Very cold ofttimes to Thee;
Fain to slip from Thy dear hold
To my follies and be free.
Very cold ofttimes to Thee;
Fain to slip from Thy dear hold
To my follies and be free.
Yet I love: Thou knowest all.
I am Thine in heat and chill;
Thou, Thou hast my heart in thrall,
All my life and all my will.
I am Thine in heat and chill;
Thou, Thou hast my heart in thrall,
All my life and all my will.
Thou, Immortal Lover, sure
Knowest the way that lovers have,
Now so cold, afraid, unsure,
Now afire with love and brave.
Knowest the way that lovers have,
Now so cold, afraid, unsure,
Now afire with love and brave.
If I loved less it might be
That the way was smoother, less
Of the heavenly joys for me
And the cast-down bitterness.
That the way was smoother, less
Of the heavenly joys for me
And the cast-down bitterness.
119
I am cold—be that Love's proof!—
And I burn—the proof again!—
I would not be smooth but rough
Lest the smoother love should wane.
And I burn—the proof again!—
I would not be smooth but rough
Lest the smoother love should wane.
Give me earth or Heaven—and yet
If it is Love's test to swing
'Twixt the earth and Heaven still set—
I—I ask no other thing.
If it is Love's test to swing
'Twixt the earth and Heaven still set—
I—I ask no other thing.
120
NOËL
I heard a song upon Christmas day
And the feet of many going one way,
The word the golden voice did say:
Gloria in Excelsis!
And the feet of many going one way,
The word the golden voice did say:
Gloria in Excelsis!
The air was filled with snowflakes white,
And the singing stars danced in their flight,
Sweet the song they sang in the night,
Et in terra pax!
And the singing stars danced in their flight,
Sweet the song they sang in the night,
Et in terra pax!
Good singing folk, where is there peace,
And for the broken heart heartsease?
They chant: Come hither upon your knees,
Venite ad Bethlehem!
And for the broken heart heartsease?
They chant: Come hither upon your knees,
Venite ad Bethlehem!
For now the Prince of Peace is born;
For the full heart and the heart forlorn
He signs His Peace upon Christmas Morn:
Adeste Fidelis!
For the full heart and the heart forlorn
He signs His Peace upon Christmas Morn:
Adeste Fidelis!
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