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diff --git a/75153-h/75153-h.htm b/75153-h/75153-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..328dc07 --- /dev/null +++ b/75153-h/75153-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1641 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + +<head> + +<link rel="icon" href="images/img-cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + +<meta charset="utf-8"> + +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Little Grey Lamp, by Herbert H. Gowen +</title> + +<style> + +body { color: black; + background: white; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +p {text-indent: 1.5em } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 200%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t3 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center } + +p.t3b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t4 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center } + +p.t4b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t5 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 60%; + text-align: center } + +h1 { text-align: center } +h2 { text-align: center } +h3 { text-align: center } +h4 { text-align: center } +h5 { text-align: center } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; } + +p.thought {text-indent: 0% ; + letter-spacing: 2em ; + text-align: center } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.footnote {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +.smcap { font-variant: small-caps } + +p.intro {font-size: 90% ; + text-indent: -5% ; + margin-left: 5% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.quote {text-indent: 4% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +.gothic { + font-family: 'Old English Text MT', 'Old English', serif; +} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75153 ***</div> + +<h1> +<br><br> + <span class="gothic">The Little Grey Lamb</span><br> +</h1> + +<p class="t3b gothic"> + And Other Christmas Poems<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + BY<br> +</p> + +<p class="t2"> + HERBERT H. GOWEN<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + MOREHOUSE PUBLISHING CO.<br> + MILWAUKEE, WIS.<br> + A. R. MOWBRAY & CO.<br> + LONDON<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> + COPYRIGHT BY<br> + MOREHOUSE PUBLISHING CO.<br> + 1928<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b gothic"> +Contents +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> +<a href="#foreword">Foreword</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> +<a href="#message">The Christmas Message</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> +I. <a href="#chap01">The Little Grey Lamb</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> +II. <a href="#chap02">Jerusalem, 1917</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> +III. <a href="#chap03">The Quest of the Christ</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> +IV. <a href="#chap04">What the Wise Men Saw</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> +V. <a href="#chap05">Under Which Sign?</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> +VI. <a href="#chap06">Through the Windows</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> +VII. <a href="#chap07">Over the House-Tops</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> +VIII. <a href="#chap08">Shepherds of Men</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> +IX. <a href="#chap09">No Room in the Inn</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> +X. <a href="#chap10">Mother and Child</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> +XI. <a href="#chap11">The Vision of the Kings</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> +XII. <a href="#chap12">A Prayer for the New Year</a> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3> +<a id="foreword"></a> +<span class="gothic">Foreword</span> +</h3> + +<p> +It has been a habit of mine, for some years, +to send an annual Christmas greeting to my +friends in the form of a little poem. Of the +following selections most have been published in +the annual Christmas number of the <i>Town-Crier</i> +of Seattle, whose editors kindly permit +their reproduction. They are reprinted because +some have liked one or other of the poems +sufficiently well to request this; also because I feel +that the treatment of the Christmas story may +be fresh enough and varied enough to win the +liking of some others. H.H.G. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h3> +<a id="message"></a> +<span class="gothic">The Christmas Message</span> +</h3> + +<p> +The story is told that when King Edward +I of England sought to reconcile the Welsh +people to his rule he presented to the assembled +chiefs his baby son, just born in Caernarvon +Castle, as a native son of Wales to be their +prince. The king manifested in the act a very +sound appreciation of what is, according to the +Christmas story, the heart of the divine +method for reconciling a rebellious world to +God. For the divine fact which makes the +Christmas festival so dear to all alike, and +draws together them that are afar off and them +that are nigh is nothing less than that the Child +who comes to reign in a world of human hearts +is truly named the Son of Man. +</p> + +<p> +That the jarring interests of a warring +world may be brought together in one common +devotion to the best is always plain when we +substitute the child attitude for the selfish and +sophisticated ideas of men soiled by too long +contact with material things. And when men +return to the child mind, with its simplicity, its +purity, and its ready response to love, the +world will certainly be a little nearer to that +emulous heaven which yearns downward to +touch the earth as the earth at Christmas time +seems to be doing its best to reach the skies. +The celebration of such a truth is the best +antidote for the horrible doctrine of an absentee +God and of a humanity left to wander unaided +in the dark. +</p> + +<p> +In the great temple, Shi Tenno-ji, in Osaka, +is the shrine of the Guiding Bell. The rope is +made up of the bibs of dead children, and little +Japanese go thither in order that by ringing +the bell they may help and be helped along the +road to Paradise. The Christmas bells are +always guiding bells to all mankind. Wherever +they ring, whether they sound only in the +imagination which carries us back to the days of +long ago, they summon man unfailingly to a +Paradise wherein all may become as little +children in the spirit of faith and hope and love. +</p> + +<p> +And wherever these bells are heard the heart +will never cease to sing and dance away the +dust of the world and charm men from the +sordidness which keeps us back from entry +within the gates of gold. +</p> + +<p> +"A little child shall lead them"—this is the +veridical prophecy of the good days to come. +In fulfilment of such a prophecy let us share the +good-heartedness and charity of the Christmas +season. Let us lend our ears to hear once more +the song which, though it comes from heaven +through the voice of angels, has its message +for the souls of men on earth. Let us turn our +backs upon the selfish and the discordant till +the angelic anthem is echoed back with human +voice to the Throne of God. Then heaven and +earth shall have become one indeed. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> + +<h3> +I. +<br><br> +<span class="gothic">The Little Grey Lamb</span> +</h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<i>Founded upon an old legend</i> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b gothic"> + The Little Grey Lamb<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + <i>A simple tale of long ago,<br> + How the little grey lamb became white as snow.</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + On Bethlehem's hills on a winter night,<br> + Shepherds kept watch in the cold star-light.<br> + The sheep, safely folded, were fast asleep:<br> + There was nought to trouble their slumber deep.<br> + But one little grey lamb was filled with woe<br> + For he longed to be white as the winter snow.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Then sudden the heavens grew bright like noon,<br> + With a light which was neither of sun nor moon.<br> + And music rained down ineffably sweet,<br> + As the shepherds sprang to their trembling feet.<br> + But the sheep slumbered on through that wonderful night,<br> + Save the little grey lamb who longed to be white.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Then forth from the skies came an angel's voice:<br> + "Good tidings, ye shepherds! God bids you rejoice.<br> + In Bethlehem's inn the Child ye shall see,<br> + Who is born to make all men happy and free."<br> + Then swiftly they journeyed the Christ Child to find,<br> + And the little grey lamb followed closely behind.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + From his little white heart rose a timid prayer:<br> + "Is it only for men, O Baby most fair,<br> + Thou hast cleansing from all that is sinful and bad?<br> + Wilt Thou not heal me and make me glad?"<br> + So he followed the shepherds and entered with them,<br> + When they came to the stable of Bethlehem.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + They entered, they worshipped, and homeward returned,<br> + While a solemn joy in their bosoms burned:<br> + But the little grey lamb nestled close in the hay,<br> + Quite close to the crib where the Baby lay.<br> + And a tiny hand stole forth from the bed,<br> + And rested awhile on the little lamb's head.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + At that touch there passed a wonderful thrill<br> + Through the lamb as he lay by the crib so still:<br> + He felt all his sadness melting away,<br> + As the night mists scatter at break of day.<br> + The little grey lamb in that holy glow<br> + Knew he was white as the driven snow.<br> +</p> + +<p class="thought"> + * * *<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + <i>May the Christ Child today this blessing bestow,<br> + That the lambs of His flock be made whiter than snow!</i><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> + +<h3> +II. +<br><br> +<span class="gothic">Jerusalem, 1917</span> +</h3> + +<p> +<i>No incident of the Great War gripped the imagination +of the Christian world so much as the taking +of Jerusalem in December, 1917, by General (Lord) +Allenby. Though an incident in war, it yet had in it +the promise of peace, since no shot was fired against +the Holy City and the victorious commander entered +the city on foot without parade of war.</i> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b gothic"> + Jerusalem 1917<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + O Mother, with the halo round thy brow,<br> + Yet conscious of the Cross which looms so near—<br> + What is the grim surprise which greets thee now?<br> + What spectre grips thy maiden heart with fear?<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + What is it that, with half-averted face,<br> + Thou seest sweep across the holy land,<br> + Where all the towers and domes of David's race<br> + From age to age in silent witness stand?<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + How ill, meseems, become those sacred fields<br> + The tramp of warriors and the blast of war,<br> + The gleam of steel and shock of swords and shields,<br> + The noise of cannon booming from afar!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Is this the peace the angels sang when high<br> + The glory burst upon the shepherds lone?<br> + Is this the promised dawn when all the sky<br> + Flamed with good news from Heaven's Almighty Throne?<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Yet constant shines the Star from out the dark,<br> + Heaven's finger touching earth with silvery ray.<br> + Though Time tell of despair and misery stark,<br> + Eternity assures us of the day.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + O Mother with the sword within thy breast,<br> + The Child Divine within thine arms may see,<br> + E'en from thy lap, the issue sure, the rest<br> + For man appointed after victory.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + And when, in later years, He shall ascend<br> + The painful Cross, He shall be satisfied,<br> + And all the travail and the strife shall blend<br> + In manhood, saved, redeemed, beatified.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + O Child, in Mother's arms thus nurs'd and held,<br> + Give us from love like her's to wake and rise,<br> + Till from the Cross we see the dark dispell'd,<br> + The City of God descending from the skies.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Give us Thy courage firm, Thy patience long,<br> + Thy willingness to suffer for the right;<br> + O give us of Thy faith, Thy love so strong,<br> + The vision of the victory of the right.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Jerusalem, encompassed with arms,<br> + Shall yet become the city of the free,<br> + And discord, hatred, war, and war's alarms<br> + Shall disappear for all eternity.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> + +<h3> +III. +<br><br> +<span class="gothic">The Quest of the Christ</span> +</h3> + +<p> +<i>The picture this poem was intended to illustrate +represents one in vision beholding the Wise Men on +their camels journeying towards the goal of their quest.</i> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b gothic"> + The Quest of the Christ<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + In the dark night, while all around me sleep,<br> + My questing thoughts go backward through the years,<br> + To find and bring some worthy thing<br> + Shall waken life from out its slumber deep—<br> + Shall scatter lowering clouds of doubts and fears,<br> + And crown Love King.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Taking old forms from tales of days long dead,<br> + Like slow beasts padding softly through the night—<br> + Yet, far or nigh, I shall descry<br> + Somewhere my Bethlehem—so piloted<br> + By tinkling bells of hope that catch the light<br> + Of star-lit sky.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + I know not where my search for Christ shall end—<br> + The kings and priests I question answer not.<br> + Perhaps their will is still to kill:—<br> + Perchance He seeks to walk with me as friend:—<br> + Or, all unknown, shares the despised one's lot,<br> + Rejected still.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Yet am I sure that I shall know the sign;<br> + My heart shall wake and cry: "This—This is He!"<br> + Him shall I find, however blind<br> + And slow to recognize the hand divine.<br> + He shall His own unfailing witness be:—<br> + Him shall I find.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + And, oh, what joy the news abroad to speed,<br> + That men from sorrow as from toil who sleep<br> + May hear the song that Heaven's throng<br> + Brings down to earth, and so be comforted<br> + For woes that make strong men like women weep,<br> + And all the wrong.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Then all the dark shall melt into the dawn;<br> + Like jewels of the New Jerusalem,<br> + Earth's streets shall shine with light divine,<br> + And all her roof-tops gladden with the morn;<br> + Then every home shall be a Bethlehem<br> + Where Christ is born.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> + +<h3> +IV. +<br><br> +<span class="gothic">What the Wise Men Saw</span> +</h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<i>Founded upon an old legend</i> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b gothic"> + What the Wise Men Saw<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Back to their homes returned, the Wise Men three<br> + Reported on the King they went to see.<br> + Said they: "The star our guide, the King we found;<br> + Now are we hither come His praise to sound."<br> + Then said the Wisest of them all: "'Tis well;<br> + What was He like? First let the youngest tell."<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "What was He like? Why, this my task<br> + Is surely easy, answering what you ask.<br> + He was so young: His was the spirit of youth,<br> + Ardent and hopeful, forward-faced; in truth,<br> + His courage seemed to leap from height to height,<br> + Like golden sunshine driving back the night.<br> + So I my beating heart obeyed;<br> + My fine gold at His feet I laid."<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "And you, our next in years, what did you see<br> + In this your King? Pray, tell, what like was He?"<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "What was He like? Yea, sir, although<br> + Not as my brother saw Him saw I so.<br> + His was our manhood's prime; from out His eyes<br> + Experience looked, and wisdom: sacrifice<br> + Waited the altar whereon lifted high,<br> + Bruised but not crushed, He saw His destiny.<br> + So drew I incense from my store,<br> + Bruised too, but odorous the more."<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Well said! But you, our eldest, tell us, pray:<br> + What was He like? How saw you Him that day?"<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "What was He like? I saw Him sage<br> + With all the gifts that spring from ripest age;<br> + Eyes that beheld the eternal; youth and prime<br> + Both clean forgot, with all the things of time;<br> + Beyond all earthly effort, passion, strife;<br> + Beyond all heart-ache, pain or lust of life.<br> + I could not Him my myrrh deny,<br> + In readiness with Him to die."<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Then some, less wise than meet, looked up and smiled.<br> + Surely, they said, our brethren were beguiled,<br> + And took, for all their questing, but the thing<br> + In their own hearts for Him, the Lord, the King.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Nay, Nay!" the Wisest answered; "for I deem<br> + The King fulfils for each his dearest dream,<br> + Hear me, for though these mortal eyes are blind,<br> + Within my soul I seem the King to find.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "As in a mirror's polished face<br> + The lineaments of him that looks you trace,<br> + So in the King reflected back you see<br> + The likelihood of all you fain would be:<br> + The all beyond your all, the goal<br> + Of every striving of your soul.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Whate'er your age or station be,<br> + He looketh eye to eye, so that you see<br> + The very self of self which God did plan<br> + When first He said: 'Behold, I make a man.'<br> + And with the vision given is the dower<br> + Of the King's own communicable power."<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> + +<h3> +V. +<br><br> +<span class="gothic">Under Which Sign?</span> +</h3> + +<p> +<i>On the one hand is a world of material things, a +murky, smoke-dominated world in which men struggle +and hate and fight. On the other side of the picture a +star shines over the place where the Christ Child lies +as the prophet and earnest of the good time to come.</i> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b gothic"> + Under Which Sign?<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Watchman, what of the night? What of the day that's to dawn?<br> + Is it bale-fire, battle, and blood? Is it hate in a land forlorn?<br> + Is it benison, brotherhood, peace—peace to the near and the far?<br> + Shall the earth with its phantoms beguile, or God utter Himself<br> + through His star?<br> + Blow, O ye winds of heaven, mighty the dark to dispel!<br> + Shine, star of hope, on our world, vexed with delusions of hell!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Lure of the delved ore, mock-sun of our low estate!<br> + Shadowed, time-born and time-doomed, on the hell-gendered<br> + smoke-clouds of hate!<br> + Shalt thou win for thy gloom-spread realm the limitless vault<br> + of the sky?<br> + With thy will-o-the-wisp wilt thou quench the lights of Eternity?<br> + Shall thy angels proclaim from beneath the coming kingship of wrong?<br> + 'Glory of hate and ill-will!'—Shall this be our Christmas song?<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Rout of poor, purblind souls: Have ye found your Bethlehem here—<br> + Godless, and brotherless, fighting, in shame and sorrow and fear?<br> + With your dollar for star would ye seek the goal of your<br> + heart's desire?<br> + Greet, as ye bloodily battle, the victor as king and Messiah?<br> + Trample the noble and pure into slush to proclaim yourselves free?<br> + Is your struggle success at the last, your victory liberty?<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Dark beyond all the dark! Deep Heart of Eternity,<br> + Whence streameth the starlight divine, from bounds of infinity!<br> + Love that beats in the dark—beats and breaks through from afar!<br> + Passionate purpose of God, breaking through in the signalling star!<br> + Omnipotent Love, finding voice in evangel insistent as strong,<br> + Streaming forth for our earth in angelical presence and song!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Child, with the out-stretched arms and heaven-uplifted eyes!<br> + To Thy pure heart alone comes the message of the skies.<br> + Yet out of thy joy shalt thou speak; yea, to all the world<br> + shalt thou cry:<br> + "Turn ye, O perishing fools! O turn ye, why will ye die?<br> + See, 'yond the rolling clouds shines the coming kingdom of peace,<br> + Where all men shall mingle as brothers and wars and discords<br> + shall cease!"<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Child! Nay, Prophet! we hail thee—Lord of the future age!<br> + In a world of the sightless, seeing; in a world of the<br> + foolish, sage!<br> + Faint not nor fail in thy witness, though the world around<br> + thee grow old;<br> + Let not thy faith grow feeble; O let not thy love grow cold!<br> + Interpret the times to our time; interpret thy hope to the race.<br> + That the glory which shines in thine eyes may illumine<br> + humanity's face!<br> +</p> + +<p class="thought"> + * * * * *<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Watchman, what of the night? Cometh the dawn from afar!<br> + Dreams pass away and clouds scatter. We will trust the voice<br> + of the Star.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> + +<h3> +VI. +<br><br> +<span class="gothic">Through the Windows</span> +</h3> + +<p> +<i>Some children from within a bare and comfortless +room are looking forth upon a wintry night. The +world outside is bleak and pitiless. The very church +seems empty of suggestion till one notes how the spire +with silent finger is pointing to the Christmas Star.</i> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b gothic"> + Through the Windows<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> + "<i>It came and stood over where the young Child was.</i>"<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Winter—and winter's gloom—without, within—<br> + The ice on heart and hearth and sunless earth!<br> + Cling close, ye hapless victims of man's sin—<br> + Companions sad of misery and dearth!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Cold church, thy heavenward-pointing spire appeals<br> + To empty skies, all heartless, voiceless, dumb.<br> + No clang of bells through all the city peals.<br> + O grieving ones, your very griefs are numb.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Yet see! Thank God for windows! From afar,<br> + Sweet envoy from a world where all is bright,<br> + Behold, in silver radiance shines the star,<br> + Distilling through the dark its healing light.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Over the place where hearts are sore and lone;<br> + Over the place where priests and creeds of late<br> + Have stammered news of God and man at one,<br> + And seen men doubt and sleep, and wake to hate.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + O windows, made for light to enter in!<br> + The Light is there, beyond the darkened sky.<br> + To reach, impinge, and pass your barrier thin,<br> + To lift our captive, earth-bound souls on high!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Come to the windows! There adoring kneel!<br> + Beyond your aching hearts the Heart Divine!<br> + Heart seeking heart, beyond where systems wheel,<br> + Seeking, yea, finding! Lo, the starry sign!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + O Hand that leads yon Star that shall not fail!<br> + O Eye that watches through each guiding ray!<br> + O Home, beyond our habitations frail!<br> + O Church, complete in Heaven's eternal day!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Be ever for us all 'above the place,'<br> + Bringing all comfort, joy, assurance, peace!<br> + Healing the desperate sorrow of the race,<br> + From all earth's discords gaining glad release!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + O Lord of Light and Life, grant us to know,<br> + Through windows crystal-clear of faith and love,<br> + Beyond our winter night of grief and woe,<br> + The steadfast Star still shines our world above!<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> + +<h3> +VII. +<br><br> +<span class="gothic">Over the House-Tops</span> +</h3> + +<p> +<i>Above the house-tops of a big, modern city, with its +skyscrapers and its factory chimneys, the vision passes +across the clouds of the Wise Men on their way to +Bethlehem.</i> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b gothic"> + Over the House-tops<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + God knew no wings were mine; I could not soar<br> + Into the unplumb'd heavens' ethereal vault.<br> + E'en could I climb the hills, the infinite more<br> + Of space above had left me still at fault.<br> + Yet hath He will'd that I should reach the light,<br> + Accepting steps let downward to my feet,<br> + That I should find His ladder in the night<br> + From shop and office, factory and street.<br> + Yea, when the heavy-headed toilers sleep—<br> + Life from day's fret and fume awhile immune,—<br> + When darkling shrouds of night their sentry keep,<br> + The heavens with the house-tops hold commune.<br> + Then am I one with all the quests of old,<br> + With all the wise ones whom the stars of night,<br> + No wandering waifs of space, their message told<br> + And crowned their heads with aureole of light.<br> + These loved not earth the less that she provides<br> + Foothold for souls whose gaze may pierce the skies;<br> + Time's many travailings and changing tides<br> + Made past and future equal in their eyes.<br> + And this the song that, soundless, thrills the air—<br> + One with the voice of human hearts that beat<br> + Their living diapason to the prayer,<br> + One with snow peaks that soar, still waters at our feet:<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + (1)<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Up to the house-tops of Faith, ye sons and daughters of Doubt,<br> + Up from the dungeons of Time, where sick and imprisoned ye lie!<br> + Out from your wilderment waken,<br> + Deem not the world God-forsaken!<br> + Come ye, for, piercing the night, see the star in the sky<br> + shining out,<br> + Splendid o'er mountain and moonlight, Faith's witness which<br> + none may deny.<br> + See, we are here, for your helping, your bodiless pilots of old,<br> + We whose example and aid all the world's patient pilgrims made bold.<br> + Slow Science has humbled her pride;<br> + She takes us and trusts as her guide;<br> + For we are the prophets and seers<br> + Who lead on the hesitant years;<br> + We follow the spirit's surmise,<br> + We hear the voices of night;<br> + Already there dawns on our prescient eyes<br> + The Sun of Eternity's morn, the kingdom of limitless light!<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + (2)<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Up to the house-tops of Hope, ye downcast sons of Despair,<br> + Ye whom experience has cheated and left defeated and bare!<br> + Back to your childhood's fond dreaming—<br> + Truer was this than your deeming!<br> + Up from the purlieus of earth where men stifle and struggle<br> + for air;<br> + Catch from the roof-tops the joy of the vision outshining<br> + our prayer!<br> + Lo, where we stand, we are yours, whom the world hath not<br> + shaken nor shocked,<br> + We who still hoped and went on, though the multitudes melted<br> + and mocked.<br> + Yet fainting hearts watched from afar<br> + And followed our beckoning star,<br> + For God made us Hope's pioneers,<br> + To hearten men out of their fears!<br> + While the myriads wander and stray<br> + In the mists of a starless night,<br> + We are steadfast and march on our forward way,<br> + On to Eternity's morn, to the kingdom of limitless light!<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + (3)<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Up to the house-tops of Love, ye generations of Hate,<br> + Up from the man-made hells where ye struggle and slander and slay!<br> + Up from your loveless stagnation,<br> + Up from your hearts' slow starvation!<br> + Come, for humanity calls to the heights where all benisons wait,<br> + Speaking through stars of the night of the luminous earnest of day!<br> + See we are round you, your brothers, the soldiers and martyrs<br> + of Love,<br> + Who poured forth our souls like a river, and labored and suffered<br> + and strove!<br> + From the flame and the gallows-tree,<br> + From the life-long, slow agony,<br> + Oh, we climbed up our Calvary,<br> + So winning Love's victory.<br> + We followed the Lord of the Star,<br> + Who died to discover Love's might!<br> + God grant we may herald to men near and far<br> + The dawn of the kingdom of Love, the kingdom of limitless light!<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> + +<h3> +VIII. +<br><br> +<span class="gothic">Shepherds of Men</span> +</h3> + +<p> +<i>The picture for which this was written shows the +shepherds standing over their slumbering flock under +the shelter of a great rock. To them appears an angel, +his feet almost touching the ground, bearing in one +hand a star and raising the other hand to call +attention to his message.</i> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b gothic"> + Shepherds of Men<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Shepherds of men—not sheep—<br> + Your age-long watch who keep,<br> + Have ye grown weary waiting for the light?<br> + Are ye resigned to see<br> + Your silly charges free<br> + To wander lost and helpless in the night—<br> + For whom the word was given of old<br> + That all should reach at last the eternal fold?<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Or, sunken in despair,<br> + Deem ye the cruel lair<br> + Of wolf and lion safe as man's domain?<br> + Think ye too deep, too deep,<br> + The human lies asleep,<br> + And nought but beast awake in blood and brain?<br> + Is there no inward-turning eye,<br> + No pitiful great yearning for the sky?<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Or faint you at the dearth<br> + Of comfort in the earth?<br> + Is Nature with the bad in man and beast<br> + So straitly leagued the rocks,<br> + That shelter now your flocks,<br> + Might flow like lead from furnace fires released,<br> + And e'en the soil on which you tread<br> + Prove fleeting as the clouds above your head?<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Have all your passionate cries<br> + 'Gainst solid-seeming skies<br> + Shivered and fallen in mocking echoes back?<br> + Does prayer in vain assail?<br> + Do tears for nought avail?<br> + Does the bright maze of stars all language lack?<br> + A world where struggles, griefs, desires,<br> + Make streams in hell but light not heaven's fires?<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Blesséd, O Shepherds, ye,<br> + Who now the glory see,<br> + Though still your flock for vision unalert!<br> + Light lifted not too high,<br> + Nor opening quite the sky,<br> + Yet quickening skyward yearnings long inert;<br> + Yea, making pathways for the feet<br> + To find the spot where earth and heaven meet!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Blesséd, again, since, borne<br> + Unto a world forlorn,<br> + Heaven's herald comes, yet no-wise alien!<br> + Of heaven the cross-like wings,<br> + Yet man's the voice that rings,<br> + Human the eyes that meet the eyes of men;<br> + Human the feet that seek the ground;<br> + Human the hands that scatter light around!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + O Star, with heaven-born beams,<br> + Awake us from our dreams!<br> + O clothed with light, miraculous messenger,<br> + Set us upon the way<br> + To greet the coming day,<br> + Where, worshipping the Very Light, it were<br> + Foretaste of Heaven's eternal peace—<br> + Of earth's unquiet wanderings surcease!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Shepherds, forget your fear!<br> + The dawn, the dawn is near!<br> + Though upstart Herod and the Roman might<br> + Combine with all the tribe<br> + Of faithless priest and scribe<br> + To quench in mists of unbelief the light,<br> + The long-expected King's at hand,<br> + To rule in peace and righteousness the land!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Say you the vision fades,<br> + While all around the shades<br> + Creep coldly on and all your courage dies?<br> + Go forth, while round you ring<br> + Strains ye heard angels sing<br> + When all heaven flashed upon your startled eyes.<br> + For though your vision fade away,<br> + 'Tis but that dawn may broaden into day.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + The Child your eyes shall see,<br> + As yet laid lowlily,<br> + Not yet full-statured risen to the skies—<br> + Not yet with tongue that speaks,<br> + Not yet with arm that breaks<br> + The iron fetters of earth's tyrannies—<br> + Is earnest of the struggle won,<br> + And all life's shadows smitten of the sun.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Oh, once again the tale<br> + Makes faith o'er doubt prevail!<br> + Oh, once again the vision wakes to deeds<br> + That god-like grow and shine<br> + Till, grown to the divine,<br> + Man soars to heights beyond where doubt impedes,<br> + And in one glimpse of Heaven's glory<br> + He reads the fulness of the human story.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap09"></a></p> + +<h3> +IX. +<br><br> +<span class="gothic">No Room in the Inn</span> +</h3> + +<p> +<i>A picture of two contrasted abodes. On one side is the +Inn, the House of Chimham, crowded with revelers +whose ideal is expressed by Herod. On the other side is +the humble crib where angels are finding fellowship +with ox and ass in adoration of the Christ Child.</i> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b gothic"> + No Room in the Inn<br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + <i>The Angel Gabriel speaks:</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Unseen I stand and marvel; mysteries twain<br> + Becloud my understanding. Here the train<br> + Of seraphs worship as before the Throne,<br> + With glory vast, unseen of man alone.<br> + Even the ox and ass, dumb, with meek eyes,<br> + With ecstasy atremble, recognize<br> + The crib where sleeps their Lord. Yet, o'er the hills,<br> + Back turned on this, a crowded world which fills<br> + The House of Chimham, anxious but to see<br> + The little lights of princely puppetry<br> + Where Herod's palace flaunts its feeble ray,<br> + With lure, alas, to lead man's soul astray<br> + From this, the light which burns eternally,<br> + And brings to earth her full felicity.<br> +</p> + +<p class="thought"> + * * * * *<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + O fools, and blind! I seem to hear your sin<br> + Proclaim'd with revelry within the Inn<br> + Ye deem so sure a dwelling. Hark, the song<br> + Which shrills so loud the ages all along:<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "No room, no room, in the world's wide Inn,<br> + For Age when the wine of life is thin!<br> + This carpenter, Joseph—push him aside;<br> + If he cannot keep up, let him lodge outside,<br> + With the beasts of the stable of Bethlehem!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "No room, no room, for Mary as guest,<br> + When Woman is weakness and sore distrest!<br> + As thrall or as toy she awhile may abide;<br> + If she come but to suffer, why, shut her outside,<br> + With the beasts of the stable of Bethlehem!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "A child, a child—on our hands tonight!<br> + Oh, no room for Childhood, whatever its plight!<br> + Children are cheap: for the travail hour,<br> + Send the woman away to discover a bower<br> + With the beasts of the stable of Bethlehem!"<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Poor, foolish world! How are your revels mocked!<br> + E'en while ye feast, your Inn is earthquake shocked,<br> + Though Time but move a finger. The dumb beasts<br> + Are sager than the prophets of your feasts,<br> + Who lift their empty voices to the night—<br> + Made deaf by hearing, blind through gift of sight.<br> + This stable whither ye the weak ones ban,<br> + Stands on the rock of God's eternal plan;<br> + And far above the ribald song ye sing,<br> + I hear the ages with glad chorus ring:<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Room, O room, in the Kingdom, for the trampled of power<br> + and pride,<br> + For Age that sinks under its weakness, with life's full<br> + fruition denied,<br> + Starved faculty hungry for service, impatient for uses of<br> + heaven—<br> + O enter, but stoop as ye enter, for life abounding is given<br> + By the way of the stable of Bethlehem.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Room, O room, in the Kingdom, for Womanhood tender and true—<br> + Handmaid of God, quick oblation, elect evermore to renew<br> + Life, with Hope ever re-risen for the generations of earth—<br> + Enter, albeit with pangs of the soul and with travail of birth,<br> + By the crib of the stable of Bethlehem.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Room, in the Kingdom, for Childhood—for children the<br> + chiefest seat!<br> + Such shall be dear to the King, He shall gather them<br> + round His feet.<br> + In their joy He shall greatly rejoice, and their sadness shall<br> + make Him sad.<br> + Yea, their joy shall turn earth into heaven, and their gladness<br> + shall make men glad,<br> + As they tell of the stable of Bethlehem."<br> +</p> + +<p class="thought"> + * * * * *<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Sometime it will dawn, that Gospel. Then shall shine<br> + This stable, brighter than the Orient sun;<br> + And men shall worship at this humble shrine,<br> + Where, all unmarked, Redemption's work's begun.<br> + The dumb brutes know; yet, for man's sake I go,<br> + By other signs to stir him in his sleep.<br> + My errand now—some few prepared I know—<br> + To light the hillsides where they watch their sheep.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap10"></a></p> + +<h3> +X. +<br><br> +<span class="gothic">Mother and Child</span> +</h3> + +<p class="poem"> + "<i>The Christ Child lay in Mary's lap,<br> + His hair was like a crown....<br> + And all the flowers looked up to Him,<br> + And all the stars looked down.</i>"<br> + —G. K. CHESTERTON.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b gothic"> + Mother and Child<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Mother and Child!<br> + Symbol eternal, and Fact, Prediction sublime!<br> + Read the sweet story of Love, upheld in the arms of Time!<br> + Mother and Child!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Read the great story of Earth, struggling up through her<br> + Sorrow and Pain,<br> + Till, chosen the Bride of God, she bring forth, washed clean<br> + of all stain,<br> + Truth undefiled.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Far back in the youth of the world, out of water and mist and slime,<br> + I see thee, Earth-Mother, arise, both Mother and Daughter of Time—<br> + Stern, sacrificially cruel, with passionate spirit aflame,<br> + Cybele, Ishtar, Isis, adored under many a name,<br> + Striving through waste and through weakness, onward and upward ever,<br> + Slain for Love's sake and slaying, yet failing in sacrifice never,<br> + Bearing with anguish of heart, big with the life of the morrow,<br> + Lifting our soul from the soil, thy Body transfixed with our sorrow—<br> + Till, lo, the fair fruitage of life, upheld in thine arms for<br> + a Throne,<br> + Opens eyes to the kiss of God, His Child, yet thy very own.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Far back ere the brooding wing of the Spirit o'er Chaos stirred,<br> + God thought of Creation to be, and His Thought took flesh as<br> + the Word—<br> + Child of eternal Love, awaiting the fulness of days,<br> + Downward descending in dreams, seeking our earthward ways,<br> + Struggling for birth through the ages, piercing through many a cloud,<br> + Worshipped at many an altar, wherever faces were bowed,<br> + Or hands uplifted to Heaven in passionate yearning to see<br> + In thy Face the transfiguring vision of life-giving Deity.<br> + Till, lo, the idea of God, His Child, thou art brought to birth,<br> + Making glad all thy brethren to be, and thy Mother the travailing<br> + earth.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + O Mother dear, to whom came Gabriel<br> + With message like a sword,<br> + Who bowed thyself in meekness at the well—<br> + The Handmaid of the Lord!<br> + Mother of Men, triumphant o'er the brute,<br> + Hailed highly favored from the Holy Place,<br> + The splendor of Earth's meaning in thy Face,<br> + Her ultimate Flower and Fruit!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + O Babe Divine, for whom the angels sang<br> + O'er Bethlehem's fields of old,<br> + When through the darkness heavenly carols rang<br> + And heavenly tidings told!<br> + O Child of Heaven, to whom all hearts aspire,<br> + In incense clouds of prayer that upward burn,<br> + In wakening throbs of Life that constant yearn—<br> + Rich Spring-tide of desire!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Beyond the temporal tides whose course has run<br> + In realms where space has burst her ancient bars,<br> + I see the Woman clothed with the Sun,<br> + And circled with the stars.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + With feet upon the changeful Moon, she stands,<br> + And on her face a look divinely mild,<br> + She holds secure with tender, human hands<br> + The Everlasting Child.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + O ancient Mother, ever Virgin, young<br> + With youth renewed through all the ages, Sign<br> + Of Hope, the age-long prayer of every tongue,<br> + And Victory divine!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Hold Thou that Hope that bursts upon our night—<br> + Babe by thee suckled, sustenant of thee,<br> + Beacon enkindled from the Eternal Light,<br> + For all the world to see!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Sing all ye angel conclave of the skies,<br> + Who at Creation's birth did shout for joy,<br> + And hailed the task begun!<br> + Now let your songs of triumph higher rise,<br> + And all your heavenliest melodies employ,<br> + To praise Creation done!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + And sing, ye creatures from the lowest deep,<br> + Whose groans have risen: 'O Lord, O Lord, how long?'<br> + Expectant of the dawn!<br> + High festival with men and angels keep,<br> + Upraise from Earth to Heaven the endless song,<br> + And hail the Babe new-born!<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap11"></a></p> + +<h3> +XI. +<br><br> +<span class="gothic">The Vision of the Kings</span> +</h3> + +<p> +<i>A woman, with her baby at her breast, is depicted +meditating, half to herself and half to her child, upon +the Christmas story. The poem endeavors to trace the +pathway of her thought.</i> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b gothic"> + The Vision of the Kings<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + I.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + O Virginal mother of men, in whose fathomless eyes—<br> + Soft eyes too familiar with tears,<br> + Past sorrow and faith in the future both wistfully wait<br> + The gladness that comes with the years!<br> + Asleep on your breast and content, that futurity lies,<br> + Nor frets nor frowns at its fate.<br> + While half to yourself and half to your baby you sing<br> + The story undying miraculous Christmases bring:<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "There came three kings from far away, from far away,<br> + from far away,<br> + And o'er the crib of Bethlehem their guiding star its<br> + course did stay.<br> + Along the road beneath that star the way ahead like<br> + silver shone:<br> + So came they to the King of kings and poured their gifts<br> + before His throne."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + II.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Then sudden before your eyes the walls material fade<br> + And melt away in the light,<br> + While, full in that ray, as on stairway of stars, descend,<br> + In robes of splendor bedight,<br> + Three kingships on pilgrimage questing, with Heaven their aid,<br> + And God within them their friend.<br> + They move all majestical onward, as eager to greet<br> + The slumbering Infant who draws them to kneel at His feet.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + III.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + The first is the kingship of Love, that walks in the van—<br> + Of Love that kneels only to Love,<br> + And vows unto Love a devotion Love only may pay.<br> + Since Love is endowed from above.<br> + How else could mortality offer such worship to man,<br> + Or clay so reverence clay,<br> + Did Love not know Love as predestined from death to win free,<br> + Though lying all feeble and helpless asleep on your knee?<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + IV.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + The second is kingship of Service, carrying high<br> + Its casket of frankincense rare,<br> + As ready in glad self-oblation to cast at Love's feet<br> + The vessel fashioned so fair;<br> + In gladness releasing, as incense that floats to the sky,<br> + The odors of sacrifice sweet;<br> + Lest self claim the fragrance that clings to one drop of the nard,<br> + To shatter the vessel so fine to the uttermost shard.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + V.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + The third is the kingship of Wisdom, lingering still,<br> + With hands that grope as they bear<br> + No visible gift, and with footsteps that feel for the light,<br> + And with eyes turned inward, from fear<br> + Lest soon all their questing be ended, lest soon they shall fill<br> + Their seeing with fullness of sight;<br> + Still wise in their seeking for wisdom, yet wiser to be<br> + In serving the Christ of their seeking on worshipping knee.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + VI.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Is all but a dream, O my mother, as, plain in your sight,<br> + These march on their star-lit way?<br> + Or see you, through casements celestial, on Heaven's bright floor,<br> + Some earnest of Heaven's new day,<br> + When all things on earth, or in heaven, or in hell's blackest night,<br> + Bow down to give praise evermore—<br> + When they sing the new song of release from earth's sorrow and thrall<br> + To Him who, though born in a manger, is King over all?<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + VII.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + Still dream, and with life as it passes still mingle your dream,<br> + Nor fear for the ages unknown!<br> + All fear shall your Babe laugh to scorn, however heavy its weight,<br> + Since man is not faring alone!<br> + 'Emmanuel'—'God with us all'—this is solace, we deem,<br> + Sufficient to front any fate;<br> + Though sharp be the Cross He must bear, when the conflict is o'er,<br> + The kingship of earth and of heaven is His evermore.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap12"></a></p> + +<h3> +XII. +<br><br> +<span class="gothic">A Prayer for the New Year</span> +</h3> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b gothic"> + A Prayer for the New Year<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + O God, whose days are without end and Whose years cannot<br> + be numbered!<br> + We, the seeming creatures of a day, reach onward through<br> + the passing years<br> + To claim Thy kinship in Eternity.<br> + We thank Thee for the solemn pause wherein we put the dead<br> + past behind us,<br> + And face the new unknown with courage new.<br> + Lift up over Thy bewildered world the sunshine of Thy presence<br> + That we this year may see the world, Thy handiwork,<br> + Emerge victorious, purposeful from Chaos,<br> + Grant us to see, clear of cloud and battle-smoke,<br> + The Eternal City, real before our eyes,<br> + Stable on earth, the world of all our dreams,<br> + Home of men reconciled, redeemed from hate.<br> + Grant us to see Creation, after travail pangs,<br> + With Love again made young, young Hope within her arms,<br> + Her sorrows healed, her tears to pearls transformed.<br> + Then we, strangers and sojourners of Time, shall gird ourselves<br> + For the march which ends not but in rest with Thee.<br> + O hang the lamp of hope above our onward path;<br> + Give clearer light to understand the things which hitherto were dark;<br> + Give strength to work the work for which our hands were hitherto<br> + too feeble;<br> + Enlarge our hearts to love all that is worthy love, though<br> + hitherto unloved;<br> + Whatever seed Thou scatterest along these unknown days ahead,<br> + Help us to reap therefrom harvests of blessing for ourselves<br> + and others<br> + Which Thou wilt garner safe beyond the flux of years.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> + PRINTED IN<br> + THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA<br> + BY<br> + MOREHOUSE PUBLISHING CO.<br> + MILWAUKEE, WIS.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br><br></p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75153 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> + + diff --git a/75153-h/images/img-cover.jpg b/75153-h/images/img-cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8250359 --- /dev/null +++ b/75153-h/images/img-cover.jpg |
