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FROM THE LIBRARY OF 
 REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON, D. D 
 
 BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF 
 
 PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 
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 COMPANY, INCX 
 
 SPIKENARD 
 
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 SPIKENARD 
 
 JUN 22 1933 
 
 f)m*[ Rtv 
 
 A BOOK OF 
 DEVOTIONAL 
 LOVE- POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 I^tJRENCE 
 HOUSMAN 
 
 LONDON 
 GRANT RICHARDS 
 
 BOSTON 
 RICHARD G. BADGER AND CO. 
 
 1898 
 
CHISWICK PRESS :-CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO. 
 TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON. 
 
T OVE bade me welcome : yet my soul drew back, 
 Guilty of dust and sin. 
 But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack 
 
 From my first entrance in, 
 Dre-iv nearer to me, sweetly questioning 
 If I lacked anything. 
 
 "A guest," I answered, "worthy to be here." 
 
 Love said, " You shall be he ! M 
 "/, the unkind, ungrateful ? Ah, my Dear, 
 
 I cannot look on Thee." 
 Love took my hand, and smiling did reply, 
 " Who made the eyes but IP" 
 
 George Herbert. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 The Mystery of the Incarnation 
 
 The Swaddling Bands 
 
 God's Mother . 
 
 The Word made Flesh 
 
 The Cloud of Witness 
 
 Love, the Tempter . 
 
 Before Confession 
 
 The Soul's Bondage to Christ . 
 
 The Soul complaineth against the Body, and is 
 
 answered 
 The Soul's Offerings 
 The Holy Face 
 
 To the Penitent Thief on Calvary 
 The Coming of the Kingdom 
 The Gardener .... 
 The After-Passion . 
 A Prayer for the Healing of the Wounds of Christ 
 The Voice of One, Crying 
 Repayment 
 
 The Fountain of Life 
 To St. Francis 
 Christ's Letter 
 Dedication 
 Spikenard 
 
SPIKENARD 
 
 THE MYSTERY OF THE INCARNATION. 
 
 A DISPUTATION BETWEEN CHRIST 
 AND THE HUMAN FORM. 
 
 {For the Feast of the Nativity.) 
 
 /^OMEST Thou peaceably, O Lord? 
 
 ^ "Yea, I am Peace! 
 
 Be not so fearful to afford 
 
 Thy Maker room ! for I am the Reward 
 
 To which all generations of increase 
 
 Looking did never cease. 
 
 " Down from amid dark wings of storm 
 I set My Feet 
 
 To earth. Will not My earth grow warm 
 
 To feel her Maker take the form 
 
 He made, when now, Creation's purpose meet, 
 Man's body is to be God's Mercy-seat ? n 
 B 
 
Lord, I am foul : there is no whole 
 
 Fair part in me 
 
 Where Thou canst deign to be ! 
 This form is not Thy making, since it stole 
 
 Fruit from the bitter Tree. 
 " Yet still thou hast the griefs to give in toll 
 That I may test the sickness of man's soul." 
 
 O Lord, my work is without worth ! 
 
 I am afraid, 
 Lest I should mar the blissful Birth. 
 Quoth Christ, t€ Ere seas had shores, or earth 
 
 Foundations laid, 
 
 My Cross was made ! " 
 
 " Naught canst thou do that was not willed 
 
 By Love to be, 
 
 To bring the Work to pass through Me. 
 
 No knee 
 
 Stiffens, or bends before My Sov'reignty, 
 But from the world's beginning hath fulfilled 
 Its choice betwixt the valleyed and the hilled. 
 
 For both, at one decree, 
 My Blood was spilled." 
 
 Yet canst Thou use these sin-stained hands ? 
 " These hands," quoth Christ, 
 " Of them I make My need : 
 
3 
 
 Since they sufficed to forge the bands 
 
 Wherein I hunger, they shall sow the seed ! 
 And with bread daily they shall feed 
 
 My Flesh till, bought and bound, It stands 
 A Sacrifice to bleed." 
 
 Lord, let this house be swept and garnished first ! 
 
 For fear lest sin 
 
 Do there look in, 
 Let me shut fast the windows : lest Thou thirst, 
 Make some pure inner well of waters burst : 
 
 For no sweet water can man's delving win — 
 Earth is so curst. 
 
 Also bar up the door : Thou wilt do well 
 To dwell, whilst with us, anchorite in Thy cell. 
 
 Christ said " Let be : leave wide 
 
 All ports to grief! 
 Here when I knock I will not be denied 
 The common lot of all that here abide ; 
 Were I so blinded, I were blind in chief : 
 How should I see to bring the blind relief?" 
 
 Wilt Thou so make Thy dwelling ? Then I fear 
 Man, after this, shall dread to enter here : 
 For all the inner courts will be so bright, 
 He shall be dazzled with excess of light, 
 And turn, and flee ! 
 
" But from his birth I will array him right, 
 And lay the temple open for his sight, 
 
 And say to help him, as I bid him see : 
 
 1 This is for thee ! » " 
 
THE SWADDLING BANDS. 
 
 /^\ LOVE, when human sense first touched Thine eyes, 
 ^^ Bidding them tell Thee naught, save through dis- 
 guise 
 Of specious form, and close embodiment, 
 Seemed it not sad that life such darkness lent, 
 While to Thy new-born brain the wonder grew 
 How earthly sight could so shut out the Heavenly view ? 
 
 For Thou from the embrace of Mary's heart 
 
 Must turn and see her play her earthly part : 
 Can that poor robe, and this poor peasant face, 
 Cover the highly favoured, full of Grace ? 
 
 And can this weary elder Thou dost see 
 
 The Heaven-taught Joseph be ? 
 And in this cabin'd space 
 Of stable rock 
 Does not the whole world flock 
 
 To worship at Thy knee ? 
 
 Now, this first time, Thine Eyes must look on walls : 
 
 Where Thy Hands cannot reach 
 
 Hands stretch and do beseech ; 
 Where Thine Ear cannot hear, Thine earth for succour 
 calls ! 
 
Oh, little Heart, 
 
 Beat fast, and grow ! 
 The whole world's smart 
 
 Through Thee, one day, must flow. 
 Oh, childish Ears, attend, 
 Being friend to all men's fears ! 
 
 Oh, childish Eyes, 
 
 Would ye of man be wise, 
 Ye must the channel be to all men's tears ! 
 
 So wait, and learn Thy stricl estate, 
 Until to Thee this earth commits its fate ! 
 
 Each day a little knowledge brings : 
 
 The shepherd's crook, the crown of kings, 
 In time shall prove Thee great, 
 When Hand and Head bear up their awful weight. 
 
 Now round Thee, Holy Child, 
 
 Life dawns in darkness mild : 
 Out in the starried night a Herald sings 
 
 Of Nature reconciled. 
 Thou canst not see that Star, nor hear those pastoral 
 
 wings : 
 Yet first the shepherds come to gaze, and then the kings! 
 
GOD'S MOTHER. 
 {The Annunciation of Our Lady.) 
 
 X GARDEN bower in bower 
 ■^ *■ Grew waiting for God's hour 
 Where no man ever trod, 
 This was the Gate of God. 
 
 The first bower was red — 
 Her lips which "welcome" said. 
 The second bower was blue — 
 Her eyes that let God through. 
 
 The third bower was white — 
 Her soul in God's sight. 
 Three bowers of love 
 Won Christ from Heaven above. 
 
THE WORD MADE FLESH. 
 
 {Feast of Corpus Christ i.) 
 
 /^\ WORD of Life, and Fount of Paradisal speech ! 
 ^-^ O living Coal of fire, from off God's altar ! 
 
 Now, lest they falter, 
 Touch my lips, and teach 
 My tongue to reach 
 
 Some chaunting echo from the heavenly psalter ; 
 
 So, with rebound, 
 
 To glance the hopeful sound 
 Of those sweet symphonies the Ghost-born seven, 
 
 Though once Thou didst confound 
 Man's towering hopes which could not reach to Heaven, 
 
 Yet, when the work a ruin, the hope still clung ; 
 
 Yea, though the belfry, robbed of its clear tongue, 
 
 Mocked by the winds of God a dead weight swung; — 
 
 Still of divided speech the wound stayed new, 
 
 While still to earth slid the remembering dew 
 
 Of Heaven who would not all forsake 
 
 Hearts that at gaze thereon grew like to break. 
 
And though by builders' flaw 
 The Tower was reared in vain, 
 
 Yet by the same compassionate law 
 Which bids the mountains draw 
 From Heaven's pure womb the rain ; 
 So man's mute ruin, which discord did confound, 
 Drew down the atoning Word that could make concord 
 sound. 
 
 And out o( Her, whose fresh, 
 
 Clear soul, well tuned to the Heavenly Mind, 
 Could in angelic tones a meaning find, 
 The Word made Flesh, 
 Quick from the kindling speech of Gabriel, 
 From upmost Heaven came down with us to dwell. 
 
 O Virgin-cavern for the Winds of God, O Shrine 
 Of Silence wherein spake the Voice Divine, 
 
 Till, at Its summons, answering echoes sprang, 
 
 And laughed to God and sang, 
 While all impregnate with prophetic thrill 
 Thy Word-attending Womb began to fill, — 
 
 Thou sweet mute Mother, hail ! 
 In the expressive silence of whose breast, 
 
 Discord did fail 
 To drive God's Word from Its appointed rest ! 
 
 C 
 
Flesh from thy mothering flesh, 
 
 Speech from thy speech, 
 Shaping the world afresh 
 
 Its Maker through thy mould His goal must reach. 
 Word upon word, 
 
 Wherein men's thoughts lie blurred, 
 Taught by thy tongue He heard. 
 Oh, strange compassionate strife 
 
 Of Wisdom, when 
 Thou to the Word of Life 
 Must teach the word of men ! 
 
 So, since He stooped to reach 
 Through thee His mother-speech, 
 And since thy gracious voice set open then 
 His Ear on earth to hear His fellow men, 
 
 Must not thy lips be those 
 
 Which His compassionate Love can never wish to close ? 
 
 They taught into His Ear 
 
 God's Name, His Father dear ; 
 They are the lips of all He most must wish to hear. 
 
 Therefore, Queen Mary, reach 
 His Heart with human speech ; 
 And with most heavenward sound His Love for us 
 beseech ! 
 
THE CLOUD OF WITNESS. 
 
 {Feast of the Ascension.) 
 
 TI^HEN Christ His Being to man's body bowed, 
 * " Veiling therein His glory as in cloud, 
 Then all the Heavenly race, 
 Deprived for a space 
 
 Of Him the expression of His Father's Face, 
 Saw darkly as in a glass 
 The Godhead pass, 
 Changed to a visage human in compare, 
 Wearing no more the light of that celestial air. 
 
 So on the immortal sense, 
 Which is to God's Presence 
 As coloured rays from Light whence all light flows, 
 Fell shadowings, and the word 
 Of severance first was heard — 
 
 " Love is gone hence, 
 
 New night 
 
 Withdraws Him from our sight ! " 
 Then forthwith rose 
 
 In the angelic hearts new love to birth, 
 
 Named Faith, in wonder looking down to earth. 
 
12 
 
 So through the cloud which parted Him from them 
 Brightness came down to us at Bethlehem : 
 On that fair night 
 
 When God, Who unto angels speaks by light, 
 Out of the Word made Flesh for human sight. 
 
 O Cloud, 
 
 O Witness of the Father's Glory, bowed 
 Unto our darkness, Brightness of our night, 
 Open to us the blindness of our sight! 
 
 Unloose the shroud 
 
 Of mortal sense wherewith we are endowed ; 
 Now Thou art melted in the eternal rays 
 Of Light made perfeel, by Celestial ways, 
 Being parted in a glory from man's gaze ! 
 
 How can we lack that grace, and not be grieved 
 Till Thou rcturnest, Whom the cloud received 
 From all Thy loving watchers that believed ? 
 Was not full faith found then on Olivet, 
 When faces of Thy friends watched skywards ? Yet 
 
 All those dear eyes grew dim, 
 
 They could not look on Him : 
 Nor faith, nor love retain, 
 Him that had cast aside all mortal stain. 
 
'3 
 
 Into the cloud 
 
 He passed : He that had bowed 
 Into the bosom of our night, 
 Being Witness to us of the Father's Light ; — 
 
 A Light for evermore 
 Too fair for mortal sight ! 
 
 The Heaven-sent Sun that wrapped Himself in cloud 
 And made thick darkness be His covering and His shroud, 
 
 Had won His way back to the everlasting shore 
 
 Where night shall be no more. 
 
 Over His Face 
 
 The cloud of witness for a glory grows ; 
 
 Out of man's sight He goes 
 Back to the Heavenly place 
 To wait the crowning coming of His race. 
 
 Then shall the cloud, 
 With joyful thunderings loud, 
 Grow parted ; and His Sign 
 Be seen at length. 
 And east and west, and south and north, 
 His Word go forth : 
 
 Yea, He shall shine 
 Like as the sun in strength ! 
 
H 
 
 LOVE, THE TEMPTER. 
 
 (Season of Lent.) 
 
 /^\H, tempt not mc ! I love too well this snare 
 ^S Of silken cords. 
 Nay, Love, the flesh is fair ; 
 
 So tempt not me ! This earth affords 
 
 Too much delight ; 
 
 Withdraw Thee from my sight, 
 
 Lest my weak soul break free 
 
 And throw me back to Thee ! 
 
 Thy Face is all too marred. Nay, Love, not I — 
 / did not that ! Doubtless Thou hadst to die : 
 
 Others did faint for Thee ; but I faint not. 
 
 Only a little while hath sorrow got 
 The better of me now ; for Thou art grieved, 
 
 Thinking I need Thee. Oh, Christ, lest I fall 
 
 Weeping between Thy Feet, and give Thee all 
 Oh, Christ, lest love condemn mc unrcpricved 
 Into Thy bondage, be it not believed 
 That Thou hast need of me ! 
 
15 
 
 Dost Thou not know 
 
 I never turned aside to mock Thy Woe ? 
 I had respeel to Thy great love for men : 
 Why wilt Thou, then, 
 
 Question of each new lust — 
 
 " Are these not ashes, and is this not dust ? " 
 Ah, Love, Thou hast not eyes 
 
 To see how sweet it is ! 
 Each for himself be wise : 
 
 Mock not my bliss ! 
 Ere Thou cam'st troubling, was I not content ? 
 
 Because I pity Thee, and would be glad 
 
 To go mine own way, and not leave Thee sad, 
 Is all my comfort spent ? 
 
 Go Thine own ways, nor dream Thou needest me ! 
 
 Yet if, again, Thou on the bitter Tree 
 
 Wert hanging now, with none to succour Thee 
 
 Or run to quench Thy sudden cry of thirst, 
 
 Would not I be the first — 
 Ah, Love, the prize ! — 
 To lift one cloud of suffering from Thine Eyes? 
 
 Oh, Christ, let be ! 
 Stretch not Thine ever-pleading Hands thus wide, 
 Nor with imperious gesture touch Thy Side ! 
 Past is Thy Calvary. By the Life that died, 
 
 Oh, tempt not me ! 
 
i6 
 
 Nay, if Thou wecpest, then must I weep too, 
 Sweet Tempter, Christ ! Yet what can / undo, 
 
 I, the undone, the undone, 
 
 To comfort Thee, God's Son ? 
 Oh, draw me near, and, for some lowest use, 
 
 That I may be 
 
 Lost and undone in Thee, 
 Me from mine own self loose ! 
 
l 7 
 
 BEFORE CONFESSION. 
 
 {Ash Wednesday.) 
 
 A S the foul flesh lays by the hindering robe, 
 ■*• Letting the water probe 
 
 And purge each stain, 
 Till with that sweet medicinal receipt 
 From face to feet 
 
 The body is made sane ; 
 So, from my shamefaced soul, do I aside 
 All covering lay (who have so long denied 
 Thy cleansing Power), to be purified. 
 
 Late though I come, at last 
 
 The dress I cast 
 
 Of my deceit, which hid 
 
 Till late 
 
 My soiled estate : 
 All that I did, I did 
 
 In secrecy. 
 Lord, in my secret places cleanse Thou me ! 
 
 As to the flesh laid bare, the water, led 
 By its own laws of life, bids cleansing spread 
 D 
 
i8 
 
 With subtle press and intimate caress : 
 
 And with compelling weight, 
 
 Doth gravitate 
 
 Round all which passively submits thereto, 
 
 Leaving untouched no part ; 
 
 So to my heart, 
 Stripped of itself, Thine utmost healing do ! 
 So from its falsehood wash it with Thy truth : 
 And from lust-loving lave it in Thy ruth : 
 
 And with pure Waters pitiful, whose art 
 The virtue bears of an inborn embrace, 
 Wash Thou the soil of shame from off my face ! 
 
 Against all outward secrecy I pray, 
 Let all such secrecy be put away ! 
 Since Thou in all my secrets seest me, 
 Thine, not the world's, let all my secrets be ! 
 So, in Thy secret Ear when they are named, 
 I shall be naked but yet not ashamed : 
 And my great gain be this dear privacy — 
 When I shut out the world, to shut in Thee ! 
 
i9 
 
 / 
 
 THE SOUL'S BONDAGE TO CHRIST. 
 
 {Holy Cross Day.) 
 
 O LIVING, dying Love, whom death set free, 
 Not if I would 
 Can I now lose the good 
 Thou gavest me : 
 
 Never unburdened may my conscience be 
 To find — Thy Grace withstood — 
 Her chambers swept of Thee ! 
 
 Thou, in my blood, dost bleed : 
 
 Yea, even from the seed 
 
 Of sin, Love's cause to plead, 
 
 Thy Face 
 
 Finds space 
 To spring reproach from each rank, bitter weed ! 
 
 Dear mystery of Love, which so decreed 
 
 By strong design to win 
 
 Sure entrance in 
 To man's most secret need, 
 Thou for our piteous sakes 
 
 Becamest Sin ! 
 
20 
 
 So when temptation wakes, 
 
 Thy Cross's form it takes, 
 Making each sinner see 
 His sin mount up to be 
 Thy Calvary ! 
 
 Would I might sin, sweet Christ, and cease to know 
 
 That we are kin and share each other's woe ! 
 
 Would I might be so low, 
 
 So low, 
 
 That I might let Thee go, 
 
 And force Thee to forsake 
 
 The heart that made Thine ache ! 
 Thou sayest " No ! 
 
 For this cause slain, 
 
 In this My conquest lies — 
 
 Never canst thou again 
 So cover up thine eyes ! 
 
 " Stained with thy stain, 
 
 My Head shall bow unto the self-same pain, 
 
 And thou shalt know 
 
 In thine own flesh the likeness of My Woe ! " 
 
 Love, Joy, and Gentleness, 
 To Thee I press ! 
 Meekness, long-suffering, 
 To Thee I cling ! 
 
21 
 
 Peace, Temperance, and Faith, 
 
 Against Whom is no law, 
 Being the one All-in-all 
 
 To which all flesh must draw, 
 So wounded in the house of all Thy friends, 
 Teach them by Wounds, to make Thee fair amends, 
 Till all self-wounding ends ! 
 
22 
 
 THE SOUL COMPLAINETH AGAINST THE 
 BODY, AND IS ANSWERED. 
 
 [Feast of the Circumcision.) 
 
 TNDER so many shadows I am laid, 
 ^^ Amid these builded walls that flesh hath made 
 Fivefold about me — every sense a shade, 
 
 How shall I see Light in a light so dim ? 
 
 Windows away from God are walls from Him ! 
 Of walls, then, am I made. 
 
 These things I do, 
 
 These other things I see, 
 
 Shape not for me 
 Aught that I dare name true. 
 
 Rather they seem to be 
 Hard riddles that, with sloth and pain, 
 I must again 
 
 Undo. 
 
 How shall mine eyes 
 
 Things, that they love exceedingly, despise ? 
 
 How shall my flesh defeat 
 
 All things my heart names sweet ? 
 
23 
 
 Nay, how shall I be wise 
 
 When all my brain, led by light folly, lies ; 
 Nor can escape deceit, 
 
 Save by disguise ; 
 Itself at once the cheated, and the cheat ! 
 
 O dust, have faith according to the term 
 
 Of this life's lease ! Ere the corrupting worm 
 
 Have power to destroy the dust thou art ! 
 
 Ere the dark rust 
 Of death can clog the engine of thy heart ! 
 Great is thine honour, though thou walk in night ; 
 For fringes o^ thy darkness feel the Light 
 Which was ordained to be 
 
 When God, the Just, 
 From shadow shaping thee, 
 
 Put trust 
 
 In dust. 
 
24 
 
 THE SOUL'S OFFERINGS. 
 
 {Holy Thursday.) 
 
 fV CHRIST, first let me know 
 ^^ How sweet life's best can be 
 Then call me to forego 
 Its sweets for Thee ! 
 
 First, passion let me taste 
 
 Which all men praise or pray : 
 
 Then bid me cast in haste 
 The prize away. 
 
 From death first make me shrink 
 
 In bodily strong dread : 
 Then, then the cup to drink, 
 
 And then the bed ! 
 
25 
 
 THE HOLY FACE. 
 
 (Good Friday.) 
 
 /^\ SEA of sorrow, suffering made divine ! 
 ^^ O Deep, which dost contain, 
 To which doth flow 
 
 More than was ever wrought or dreamed of woe 
 By mortal brain ! 
 O sacred Main, 
 Where mine 
 And all men's pain 
 Reflefted shine ! 
 Thou Holy Face, 
 
 Image and Impress of the Father's Grace, 
 Where visibly doth move 
 The Holy Spirit spreading Wings of Love ; 
 Compassionate and fair 
 Attend my prayer ! 
 
 O Healing Face, to all mankind most kind, 
 Teach me to find 
 Thee, lest I wander blind ! 
 
 E 
 
26 
 
 For as the river seeks the sea, 
 
 And as its rest the rain, 
 So seeks my face for Thee, 
 
 So pleads my prayer the pain 
 That pleads through Thee : 
 " Behold, and see, 
 Is there a sorrow that has no part in me ? " 
 
 So in Thy pain I seek 
 
 The pains that hold me weak : 
 
 Oh, where 
 
 In that dear Visage marred beyond compare 
 
 Is set my care ? 
 
 Each languid Lid 
 
 Is vigil worn because of things I did : 
 
 Is robbed of sleep 
 
 And power 
 Because I would not keep 
 
 The watch one little hour ! 
 His Brow is marred and bound 
 With thorns because I found 
 
 Pure thoughts too hard to prize ! 
 
 Because mine eyes 
 Feasted on vain desire, 
 
 And put their trust 
 Where a disguise of fire 
 
 Made covering for lust : 
 
27 
 
 Therefore in Him 
 
 Sight weighcth faint and dim ! 
 
 Because my lips found fruit 
 
 Too pleasant to the taste, 
 
 Whcrefrom came waste 
 Wherein all bitterness hath root, 
 Therefore His Mouth 
 Is parched and full of drouth, 
 
 While He in patience doth assuage my haste ! 
 
 O Sea of Griefs divine, 
 
 Deep Wave of care, 
 Ocean of Love, where all God's stars do shine ; 
 
 Over whose Face perpetually doth thrill 
 
 The Quickening Spirit of the Godhead's Will, 
 Moving until the Water be made Wine ! 
 
 To Thee all prayer 
 
 Turns still, and finds most fair 
 This Face of Love, thus marred beyond compare : 
 
 For over It are wrought 
 
 All shades of human thought : 
 Grief, and strong lamentation, and sharp pain, 
 In strength cast down and raised, in loss made gain, 
 In weakness borne, in weariness out-worn, 
 In death, defeat and scorn. 
 
 Oh, Face most fair, 
 Spring-Tide of God, flood all my griefs in Thee 
 Till, as the water covereth the sea, 
 Thou coverest me ! 
 
28 
 
 TO THE PENITENT THIEF ON 
 CALVARY. 
 
 T X T'HEN shame and darkness covered Him and thee, 
 
 * * What didst thou see, 
 O thou great penitent of Calvary, 
 
 That thou couldst beg this boon as thy reward 
 For suffering ? — " When Thou comest to Thy King- 
 dom, Lord, 
 Remember me ! " 
 
 In that most darkest hour, 
 
 Of hatred born, 
 When Satan's power 
 
 Showed Love held up to scorn, 
 What way 
 
 To thee came strength to pray ? — 
 " Lord, when Thy Kingdom cometh unto Thee, 
 Remember me ! " 
 
 Above thy head the darkness did not rend 
 
 To kindle thought ; 
 
 No healing sign was wrought 
 About that death-place of earth's dying Friend, 
 To tell beholders, " This is not the end ! " 
 
2 9 
 
 Thou through the veil 
 
 Didst gaze 
 
 Into the centre of all Time's amaze : 
 Thy tongue ere Easter greetings cried " All Hail ! " 
 
 O tongue, whereon such fires of faith were found, 
 O most triumphant sound 
 
 Of prophecy that ever fell from man 
 Since Time began, 
 
 That, with its dying breath, 
 Hailed Life in death, 
 And named the Viclor in the Viclim bound ! 
 
 Therefore to thee, 
 
 Strong Saint, I make my plea, 
 Pray lest I tempt my fate ! 
 
 Lest with a soul too dead, 
 
 Drawn down to my last bed, 
 
 I have not eyes to see 
 
 Beyond mine own gross darkness covering me ! 
 Too late, too late, 
 
 For my sad soul's defence 
 
 Were death-bed penitence ! 
 Only for thy clear soul that hour sufficed 
 
 To pierce the rift, and bid the darkness lift ; 
 All we like thieves have stolen our days from Christ, 
 And think with late avowal that guilt to shift, 
 But at the last can bring no recompensing gift. 
 
30 
 
 O Light in a dark place, 
 Show not too fair a light ! 
 
 Lest thy strong suppliant face 
 Draw weaker souls to night ; 
 
 And they, in their dark need, 
 
 Have not such light to plead. 
 
 Therefore my prayer to thee, 
 Pray thou for me, 
 
 Lest at the last 
 
 Self-knowledge hold me fast 
 To sins I see ! 
 
 So, while I draw strong breath, 
 
 Pray lest I, brought to death, 
 Die, and fall short of thee ! 
 
3* 
 
 THE COMING OF THE KINGDOM. 
 
 {Easter Eve.) 
 
 T X rHEN Thou art come into Thy Kingdom, Lord, 
 
 * * Remember me ! 
 
 Strong Word of Life, holding the two-edged sword, 
 
 What is it bars Thy Kingdom back from Thee ? 
 
 Wherefore Thy Reign on earth may I not see ? 
 Here, like an Olivet, Thy Holy Board 
 
 In wedding raiment waits, 
 
 And round Thy gates 
 Kneels Faith and prays " Let will on earth accord 
 With Heaven's, O Bread of Angels, Blood outpoured ! 
 
 " Dost thou believe, O child of grief? " 
 
 O Lord, I would believe ; help Thou mine unbelief! 
 
 " Dost thou believe that Jesus, Whom 
 God covered in the Virgin's womb, 
 Took on Himself the form of fallen man, 
 And, sinless, bore the sinner's ban, 
 And, fellow to the peace within, 
 Felt pain — the punishment of sin — 
 
3 2 
 
 And, veiling from Himself the Light, 
 Of man's five senses bore the night ? 
 
 Dost thou believe a blessed Maiden, 
 By sin unleavened, 
 
 Once went God-laden ? — 
 
 And canst thou not receive 
 That through this hallowed and unleavened Bread 
 God's Heaven can be spread ? 
 
 " Dost thou believe the Lord of Life, Whose Breath 
 
 Gives being, could bow and enter Death, 
 
 And to that flesh, which covered Him as cloud, 
 
 Take on mortality to be His shroud ; 
 
 And that the tomb, 
 
 At night's tremendous nod, 
 Quaked not in giving room 
 
 To Him the Eternal God ?— 
 And canst thou not believe Him when He saith 
 That, by the words which wore His living Breath, 
 
 He, to this Bread 
 
 Coming, can make His bed ? 
 What ! wouldst thou have the hands of hate more strong 
 
 To do Him wrong, 
 Than praying hands, in innocence washed white, 
 
 To do Him right ? 
 For if the grave embowered the Lord of Light, 
 Holding Him slain and dumb, 
 May not His Altar feel His living Footsteps come ? 
 
33 
 
 11 Dost thou believe 
 
 That He can break 
 The fountains of the Deep, and cleave 
 
 The clouds of Heaven, and bid the mountains shake, 
 And the dark furrow-field of sleep to heave 
 Its dead to light ? — And canst thou not believe, 
 
 Because the attendant signs are all too dumb, 
 That, by a mystery, this Bread may be His Kingdom 
 come ? 
 
 " Dost thou believe Christ's Reign will ever come ? — 
 Then what is it which bars Christ's Reign from thee ? 
 
 Thou seest in thine own self the sum 
 Of hard denial ! Whence look and see 
 
 Here on My Altar what My Reign might be ! 
 This daily bread 
 Wherewith man's flesh is fed — 
 
 'Tis by self-will he eats, and finds not Me. 
 
 Were two or three 
 
 Together, in their midst there would I be ! 
 
 " My earth 
 Lies in the womb of Time, a struggling birth. 
 
 Knoweth the child unborn whence comes the strength 
 
 Which bids his life enlarge, 
 Until at length 
 
 The womb in travail renders up her charge ? 
 He knoweth not what walls, 
 
 F 
 
34 
 
 Nor what maternal way 
 
 Of patient waiting keep him back from day : 
 He knoweth not the large and liberal air 
 
 That rounds his dark abode : 
 Save through his mother's prayer 
 
 He hath not looked on God. 
 
 " Dost thou believe at last, O child of grief? " 
 Lord I believe ; help Thou mine unbelief! 
 
 O Thou, our Father ere we came 
 
 To being, hallowed be Thy Name ! 
 
 Thy Kingdom come : Thy Will be done, 
 
 Till Heaven and earth be joined as one! 
 
 For when Thy Will is wrought on earth 
 
 The second Christ will come to birth ; 
 
 And this sad earth, which was His tomb, 
 
 Shall quicken as the Virgin's womb : 
 
 The rocks shall rend to give Him way 
 
 And bring the second Easter Day. 
 
 And east, and west, and south, and north, 
 
 -[- His Sign, through all the world gone forth, 
 
 Shall rest upon both land and sea, 
 
 Making earth shine like Calvary. 
 
 And He shall reach out Healing Hands 
 
 To gather nations and all lands, 
 
 And open wide, to welcome them, 
 
 The twelve gates of Jerusalem ! 
 
35 
 
 THE GARDENER. 
 
 {The Feast of St. Mary Magdalene.) 
 
 \\ 7 HEN fell the uprisen Voice in Mary's ear, 
 
 * " She thought that it had been the gardener, 
 Tending the early flowers, who spake to her. 
 
 Surely the listening heart had told her right ! 
 For He, indeed, to call lost flowers to light 
 Had worked with our first father all the night. 
 
 His Eyes, which met the newly risen day, 
 Had gazed on fields of spiritual clay, 
 Where all the imprisoned seed of Adam lay. 
 
 From His own Heart which broke He watered them 
 From thorns which choke He chose His diadem; 
 
 Till cheered and freed 
 
 The patriarchal seed 
 Broke into blossom at His raiment's hem, 
 
 And round His Feet 
 
 Shed savour sweet 
 Through gardens by Jerusalem. 
 
36 
 
 O Love, when in my da} T of doom 
 The stone of sense from off me rolls, 
 
 Then from this earth, a barren tomb, 
 Do Thou, the Gardener of souls, 
 
 Uproot and bear me in Thy Breast, 
 
 And plant me where it please Thee best ! 
 
37 
 
 THE AFTER-PASSION. 
 
 {All Souls' Day.) 
 
 T70UR Wounds Thy living Flesh did take, 
 -*• That out of them a stream might break, 
 And with the living dews of Birth 
 Wash the four corners of the Earth. 
 
 Even so, dear Love, ere man grew wise 
 
 By fruit too goodly to the eyes, 
 
 Four rivers ran from Paradise. 
 
 But when the Lord of Life had died, 
 A deeper wound ran through His Side : 
 That He might pour His Pain beneath, 
 Into the prison-house of Death. 
 Oh, Mystery, past mortal ken ! 
 The Wound that pierced His Body then, 
 He bore not for the world of men. 
 
38 
 
 A PRAYER FOR THE HEALING OF THE 
 WOUNDS OF CHRIST. 
 
 {For Advent.) 
 
 T S not the work done ? Nay, for still the Scars 
 ■*■ Are open ; still Earth's Pain stands deified, 
 
 With Arms spread wide : 
 And still, like falling stars, 
 
 Its Blood-drops strike the doorposts, where abide 
 
 The watchers with the Bride, 
 To wait the final coming of their kin, 
 And hear the sound of kingdoms gathering in. 
 
 While Earth wears wounds, still must Christ's 
 
 Wounds remain, 
 Whom Love made Life, and of Whom Life made 
 Pain, 
 
 And of Whom Pain made Death. 
 
 No breath, 
 Without Him, sorrow draws ; no feet 
 
 Wax weary, and no hands hard labour bear, 
 
 But He doth wear 
 The travail and the heat : 
 
39 
 
 Also, for all things perishing^ He saith, 
 "My grief, My pain, My death." 
 
 O kindred Constellation of bright stars, 
 
 Ye shall not last for aye ! 
 
 Far off there dawns a comfortable day 
 Of healing for those Scars : 
 
 When, faint in glory, shall be wiped away 
 Each planetary fire, 
 Now, all the aching way the balm of Earth's desire ! 
 
 For from the healed nations there shall come 
 
 The healing touch : the blind, the lamed, the dumb, 
 
 With sight, and speed, and speech, 
 
 And ardent reach 
 Of yearning hands shall cover up from sight 
 Those Imprints of a night 
 For ever past. And all the Morians' lands 
 Shall stretch out hands of healing to His Hands. 
 
 While to His Feet 
 
 The timid, sweet 
 Four-footed ones of earth shall come and lay, 
 Forever by, the sadness of their day : 
 And, they being healed, healing spring from them. 
 So for the Stem 
 
 And Rod of Jesse, roots and trees and flowers, 
 Touched with compassionate powers, 
 
4 o 
 
 Shall cause the thorny Crown 
 To blossom down 
 Laurel and bay. 
 
 So lastly to His Side, 
 Stricken when, from the Body that had died, 
 Going down He saw sad souls being purified, 
 
 Shall rise, out of the deeps no man 
 
 Can sound or scan, 
 The morning star of Heaven that once fell 
 And fashioned Hell : — 
 
 Now, star to star 
 
 Mingling to melt where shadeless glories are. 
 
 O Earth, seek deep, and gather up thy soul, 
 And come from high and low, and near and far, 
 And make Christ whole ! 
 
4' 
 
 THE VOICE OF ONE, CRYING. 
 
 {For Rogation.) 
 
 r\ STRENGTH, Whose Face in cloud 
 
 ^-^ Is wrapped, Whose Word is mute, 
 
 Who patiently hath lapt in time Thy travelling Foot, 
 
 Since silent Thou art King 
 O'er all things high or bowed : — 
 
 It is the weakest thing 
 On Earth which cries so loud. 
 
 O Thou, by that high cry 
 
 Which I with frailty barb, 
 Pass not in silence by, 
 
 Too Godlike in Thy garb ! 
 But tenderly to speech 
 Bow down I do beseech ; 
 And share, when Thou hast heard, 
 My weakness with Thy Word ! 
 
 Yea, speak, until Thou see 
 Thy silence pass to me : 
 Even as of old Thy hem strange virtue lent, 
 Till what from Thee was spent 
 G 
 
42 
 
 Went in to her who kneeled 
 
 And felt within her womb the bitter issue healed ! 
 
 So speak, and Thou shalt see 
 
 How quiet I will be, 
 
 O Lord, and like to Thee ! 
 
 So still, that after all, 
 
 Thou scarce shalt hear me call : 
 
 My voice within Thy Breast shall grow so small ! 
 
43 
 
 REPAYMENT. 
 
 THOU the Cross didst bear 
 What bear I ? 
 Thou the Thorn didst wear : 
 
 What wear I ? 
 Thou to death didst dare : 
 
 What dare I ? 
 Thou for me dost care : 
 What care I ! 
 
 Who binds Thee, 
 His own bonds unbinds. 
 
 Who finds Thee, 
 Plenteous mercy finds. 
 Thou, though love that blinds, 
 
 Ne'er blinds Thee, 
 Seekest all men's minds. 
 
 Who minds Thee ? 
 
44 
 
 THE FOUNTAIN OF LIFE. 
 
 {Conception of the Virgin Mary.) 
 
 '"I^HINE earth, O Lord, is full of grief: 
 
 A Thy Heaven is full of love : 
 
 Tell me what power it was in chief 
 
 Which drew Thee from above ? 
 
 Where Love stands ever, all in all, 
 
 No entrance is for grief: 
 Say then how came to Thee the call 
 
 That won the world's relief. 
 
 Since nothing mortal grief may move 
 
 Wholly to cast out fear ; 
 How came the marvel that pure Love 
 
 Could ever enter here ? 
 
 Thou say'st, " This Law ordains relief 
 
 All other laws above, 
 That Earth cannot contain its grief, 
 
 Nor Heaven contain its Love : 
 
45 
 
 "So from the grief which has to mount, 
 
 The Love which has to run, 
 There springs and spills a Living Fount, 
 
 Till Earth and Heaven be one." 
 
4 6 
 
 TO ST. FRANCIS. 
 
 [For bis license of a wine-shop kept by one of bis Tertiaries.) 
 
 f~\ FRANCIS, servant of the Living Vine, 
 
 ^^ Since all that are His branches bear good fruit, 
 
 So in my spirit let His Life find root, 
 And let me serve Him, sending forth good wine ! 
 
 For wine God gave, to make man's heart be glad ; 
 
 Till came the foe who sowed the bitter tares, 
 
 And gluttony to vaunt her evil wares : 
 Wherefore to-day so many homes are sad. 
 
 O thou, His servant, with His patient signs 
 Of suffering in thy feet, and side, and hands, 
 Pray Him with power to purge His pleasant lands, 
 
 And catch the foxes that have spoiled the vines ! 
 
47 
 
 CHRIST'S LETTER. 
 
 T 
 
 [Feast of the Invention of the Cross.)- 
 
 / I ""HIS letter, Lord, was shaped for Thee, 
 
 A In it Thine outstretched Arms I see : 
 Thy Life, that all things did aTone, 
 Made it Thy FooTsTool and Thy Throne. 
 It waited for Thee here in earTh, 
 And ran to worship at Thy BirTh ; 
 Gave Thee a sTable for Thy hall, 
 And for a cradle used a sTall ; 
 'Twas in the brightness of the sTar, 
 A light wherever Gentiles are, 
 That led the wise men from afar. 
 
 MarTyrs for Thee, and well content, 
 It marked each Holy InnocenT ; 
 And in the close and secret night 
 To EgypT companied Thy FlighT. 
 In Thy Twelfth year with Thee 'twas found, 
 In Temple, with the Doclors round ; 
 Then, to prepare Thee for Thy DeaTh, 
 Went home with Thee to NazareTh : 
 Next at Thy BapTism to be, 
 
48 
 
 Bearing the SpiriT company, 
 
 That dove-like did descend on Thee. 
 
 While through the deserT Thou didst wend, 
 Being TempTed, it was twice Thy friend ; 
 And when Thou puttest sin to shame, 
 It thrust its spear through SaTan's name — 
 A living wound, that all may see, 
 The SerpenT's end being wrought by Thee, 
 Thou shalt fulfil ETerniTy. 
 
 Thus was it with Thee in Thy FasT, 
 And, when the vigil was well passed, 
 With Thine aposTles first and least 
 Went with Thee to the marriage-feasT. 
 With Thee it stood upon the mounT 
 Where PieTy opened clear account ; 
 And, with pure blessings for the good, 
 Stretched arms in each BeaTiTude : 
 And on another mounT, where shone 
 Thy Face too fair to look upon 
 At Thy Transfiguration. 
 
 It witnessed Thee, the mystic HosT, 
 First at Thy FeasT take up Thy post, 
 When to the Twelve Thou didst present 
 Thy Body in the SacramenT. 
 'Twas with Thee when Thou wast beTrayed, 
 And in Thy Trial it wiTness made. 
 'Twas in the sTrokes, the Thongs that bound, 
 The spiTTing, and the Thorns that crowned : 
 
49 
 
 In its own shape it reared for Thee, 
 VicTim and PricsT, the bitter Tree : 
 And, double witness of Thy ThirsT, 
 Stood last in letting Thee be FirsT : 
 Yea, that she too might bear a part, 
 Set sword in Thine own MoTher's hearT. 
 'Twas with Thee in Thy latest BreaTh ; 
 And, when Thy head was bowed to DeaTh, 
 Stayed faithful to the uttermost. 
 Till Thou hadst yielded up the ghosT, 
 Then at Thy Tomb it watched anon, 
 Until the EasTer morning shone 
 Upon Thy ResurrecTion. 
 
 'Twas there when, for the last time met, 
 Rested Thy FeeT on OliveT ; 
 But, left a mark for men below, 
 In Thine Ascension did not go. 
 A sign of Thee, whom sighT had lost, 
 It witness gave at PenTccosT : 
 Of Life that DeaTh might not divide 
 With cloven Tongues it prophesied. 
 
 Therefore, dear Lord, this letter stands 
 A symbol of Thine ouTsTreTched Hands, 
 To earthly joining Heavenly wiT ; 
 Nor are they SainTs who have not it ! 
 That Heaven and Earth more bound may be, 
 Twice does it sign the TriniTy ; 
 H 
 
50 
 
 And for close shelter comes to rest 
 Midmost upon the FaThcr's BreasT. 
 Yet still, as if naught else sufficed, 
 Stands last in the dear Name of ChrisT 
 When Thy dread alTar draws my feet, 
 I hear it bid me " Take and caT " : 
 And first and last it guards my TrusT, 
 That Thou wilt raise me from the dusT 
 
5' 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 T X ^HEN I have ended, then I see 
 
 " * How far my words come short of Thee : 
 Speech heavenly cannot live on earthly lips, 
 Pure thoughts borne down to language bear eclipse. 
 
 Ah, Christ, what harmony will that be then, 
 When, in Thy likeness, all the thoughts of men 
 
 Grow satisfied, in silence serving Thee ! 
 
 For now 'tis difference that makes us be 
 Each clamorous his own meaning to express : 
 But then all minds will wear the marriage-dress, 
 
 Moving in meet processional degree. 
 
 Oh, Christ, come quick, and from the body loose 
 The long distraction of each present use ! 
 The hands that handle, and the lips that taste 
 Not at Thy banquet, work but so much waste, 
 And at sad lingering make heedless haste ! 
 
5* 
 
 Some day, when love of self hath lost its lust 
 
 Of living in me, Thou wilt come, I trust, 
 
 And tread my heart to Paradisal dust : 
 
 Making me glad, ere last forgetting fall, 
 
 To know myself for naught, and Christ for all in all. 
 
53 
 
 SPIKENARD. 
 
 yj ' S one who came with ointments szveet y 
 -^ ^ Abettors to her fleshly guilty 
 And brake and poured them at Thy Feet, 
 
 And worshipped Thee with spikenard spilt 
 So from a body full of 'blame •, 
 And tongue too deeply versed in shame, 
 Do I pour speech upon Thy Name. 
 O Thou, if tongue may yet beseech. 
 Near to Thine awful Feet let reach 
 This broken spikenard of my speech! 
 
CH1SWICK PRESS I— CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO. 
 TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON. 
 
 r\