Christmas Antiphones

I — In Church

Thou whose birth on earth

  Angels sang to men,

While thy stars made mirth,

Saviour, at thy birth,

  This day born again;

As this night was bright

  With thy cradle-ray,

Very light of light,

Turn the wild world's night

  To thy perfect day.

God whose feet made sweet

  Those wild ways they trod,

From thy fragrant feet

Staining field and street

  With the blood of God;

God whose breast is rest

  In the time of strife,

In thy secret breast

Sheltering souls opprest

  From the heat of life;

God whose eyes are skies

  Love-lit as with spheres

By the lights that rise

To thy watching eyes,

  Orbed lights of tears;

God whose heart hath part

  In all grief that is,

Was not man's the dart

That went through thine heart,

  And the wound not his?

Where the pale souls wail,

  Held in bonds of death,

Where all spirits quail,

Came thy Godhead pale

  Still from human breath -

Pale from life and strife,

  Wan with manhood, came

Forth of mortal life,

Pierced as with a knife,

  Scarred as with a flame.

Thou the Word and Lord

  In all time and space

Heard, beheld, adored,

With all ages poured

  Forth before thy face,

Lord, what worth in earth

  Drew thee down to die?

What therein was worth,

Lord, thy death and birth?

  What beneath thy sky?

Light above all love

  By thy love was lit,

And brought down the Dove

Feathered from above

  With the wings of it.

From the height of night,

  Was not thine the star

That led forth with might

By no worldly light

  Wise men from afar?

Yet the wise men's eyes

  Saw thee not more clear

Than they saw thee rise

Who in shepherd's guise

  Drew as poor men near.

Yet thy poor endure,

  And are with us yet;

Be thy name a sure

Refuge for thy poor

  Whom men's eyes forget.

Thou whose ways we praised,

  Clear alike and dark,

Keep our works and ways

This and all thy days

  Safe inside thine ark.

Who shall keep thy sheep,

  Lord, and lose not one?

Who save one shall keep,

Lest the shepherds sleep?

  Who beside the Son?

From the grave-deep wave,

  From the sword and flame,

Thou, even thou, shalt save

Souls of king and slave

  Only by thy Name.

Light not born with morn

  Or her fires above,

Jesus virgin-born,

Held of men in scorn,

  Turn their scorn to love.

Thou whose face gives grace

  As the sun's doth heat,

Let thy sunbright face

Lighten time and space

  Here beneath thy feet.

Bid our peace increase,

  Thou that madest morn;

Bid oppressions cease;

Bid the night be peace;

  Bid the day be born.

II—OUTSIDE CHURCH

We whose days and ways

  All the night makes dark,

What day shall we praise

Of these weary days

  That our life-drops mark?

We whose mind is blind,

  Fed with hope of nought;

Wastes of worn mankind,

Without heart or mind,

  Without meat or thought;

We with strife of life

  Worn till all life cease,

Want, a whetted knife,

Sharpening strife on strife,

  How should we love peace?

Ye whose meat is sweet

  And your wine-cup red,

Us beneath your feet

Hunger grinds as wheat,

  Grinds to make you bread.

Ye whose night is bright

  With soft rest and heat,

Clothed like day with light,

Us the naked night

  Slays from street to street.

Hath your God no rod,

  That ye tread so light?

Man on us as God,

God as man hath trod,

  Trod us down with might.

We that one by one

  Bleed from either's rod.

What for us hath done

Man beneath the sun,

  What for us hath God?

We whose blood is food

  Given your wealth to feed,

From the Christless rood

Red with no God's blood,

  But with man's indeed;

How shall we that see

  Nightlong overhead

Life, the flowerless tree,

Nailed whereon as we

  Were our fathers dead -

We whose ear can hear,

  Not whose tongue can name,

Famine, ignorance, fear,

Bleeding tear by tear

  Year by year of shame,

Till the dry life die

  Out of bloodless breast,

Out of beamless eye,

Out of mouths that cry

  Till death feed with rest -

How shall we as ye,

  Though ye bid us, pray?

Though ye call, can we

Hear you call, or see,

  Though ye show us day?

We whose name is shame,

  We whose souls walk bare,

Shall we call the same

God as ye by name,

  Teach our lips your prayer?

God, forgive and give,

  For His sake who died?

Nay, for ours who live,

How shall we forgive

  Thee, then, on our side?

We whose right to light

  Heaven's high noon denies,

Whom the blind beams smite

That for you shine bright,

  And but burn our eyes,

With what dreams of beams

  Shall we build up day,

At what sourceless streams

Seek to drink in dreams

  Ere they pass away?

In what street shall meet,

  At what market-place,

Your feet and our feet,

With one goal to greet,

  Having run one race?

What one hope shall ope

  For us all as one

One same horoscope,

Where the soul sees hope

  That outburns the sun?

At what shrine what wine,

  At what board what bread,

Salt as blood or brine,

Shall we share in sign

  How we poor were fed?

In what hour what power

  Shall we pray for morn,

If your perfect hour,

When all day bears flower,

  Not for us is born?

III—BEYOND CHURCH

Ye that weep in sleep,

  Souls and bodies bound,

Ye that all night keep

Watch for change, and weep

  That no change is found;

Ye that cry and die,

  And the world goes on

Without ear or eye,

And the days go by

  Till all days are gone;

Man shall do for you,

  Men the sons of man,

What no God would do

That they sought unto

  While the blind years ran.

Brotherhood of good,

  Equal laws and rights,

Freedom, whose sweet food

Feeds the multitude

  All their days and nights

With the bread full-fed

  Of her body blest

And the soul's wine shed

From her table spread

  Where the world is guest,

Mingling me and thee,

  When like light of eyes

Flashed through thee and me

Truth shall make us free,

  Liberty make wise;

These are they whom day

  Follows and gives light

Whence they see to slay

Night, and burn away

  All the seed of night.

What of thine and mine,

  What of want and wealth,

When one faith is wine

For my heart and thine

  And one draught is health?

For no sect elect

  Is the soul's wine poured

And her table decked;

Whom should man reject

  From man's common board?

Gods refuse and choose,

  Grudge and sell and spare;

None shall man refuse,

None of all men lose,

  None leave out of care.

No man's might of sight

  Knows that hour before;

No man's hand hath might

To put back that light

  For one hour the more.

Not though all men call,

  Kneeling with void hands,

Shall they see light fall

Till it come for all

  Tribes of men and lands.

No desire brings fire

  Down from heaven by prayer,

Though man's vain desire

Hang faith's wind-struck lyre

  Out in tuneless air.

One hath breath and saith

  What the tune shall be -

Time, who puts his breath

Into life and death,

  Into earth and sea.

To and fro years flow,

  Fill their tides and ebb,

As his fingers go

Weaving to and fro

  One unfinished web.

All the range of change

  Hath its bounds therein,

All the lives that range

All the byways strange

  Named of death or sin.

Star from far to star

  Speaks, and white moons wake,

Watchful from afar

What the night's ways are

  For the morning's sake.

Many names and flames

  Pass and flash and fall,

Night-begotten names,

And the night reclaims,

  As she bare them, all.

But the sun is one,

  And the sun's name Right;

And when light is none

Saving of the sun,

  All men shall have light.

All shall see and be

  Parcel of the morn;

Ay, though blind were we,

None shall choose but see

  When that day is born.