A Celtic Psaltery Part 22

O'erburthened by the weight Of her black bosom sin, As Christ with Simon sate At meat, she had stolen in.

Toward her Lord she drew; She knelt by Him unchid; The latchet of His shoe Her trembling hands undid.

Foot-water none was by Nor towel, as was meet, To comfort and to dry His hot way-weary feet; But with her blinding tears She bathes them now instead, And dries them with the hairs Of her abased head.

And so, when Simon looked, And pondered, evil-eyed, No longer Jesus brooked His thought, but thus replied; "Simon, no kiss of peace Thou gav'st me at thy door, No oil, my head to ease, Didst thou upon it pour, Nay, for thy bidden guest So little hast thou cared, His weary feet to rest No bath hadst thou prepared; Yet hath this woman here, By thee with scorn decried, Washed them with many a tear, And with her tresses dried, And given them, from her store Of spikenard, cool relief, And kissed them o'er and o'er In penitential grief.

Therefore her joy begins, Her prayer is heard in heaven; Though many are her sins, They all shall be forgiven!"

Scant mercy he receives Whose love for G.o.d is small; But he whom G.o.d forgives The most, loves most of all.

IV. CHURCH FESTIVALS

A CHRISTMAS COMMUNION HYMN

(After the Meditation for Communion on Christmas Day in _Eucharistica_)

Welcome, thrice blessed day! thrice blessed hour!

To hail you, every heart to Heaven is climbing, The while the snow in softly circling shower Draws down to meet them 'mid the joybell's chiming; Like blessed morsels of that manna bread Wherewith of old the Lord His People fed.

Welcome, dear dawn! if now no Angel Song With sudden ravishing acclaim salute thee, Yet everywhere Our Church's white-robed throng Shall to thy first exultancy trans.m.u.te thee.

Peace and Good Will again with holy mirth Proclaiming to the Universal Earth.

Then, too, my soul, forth summoning all thy powers, Thyself from worldly schemes and wishes sunder, To worship and admire this hour of hours That is all miracle and the height of wonder; Infinity itself shrinks to a span, Since G.o.d, remaining G.o.d, becometh Man.

Here is a mother with no mortal mate!

Here is a son that hath no earthly father!

A graft, on Adam's stock incorporate, Who yet therefrom no mortal taint can gather!

A Babe to whom a new and glorious Star Earth's Wisest Kings for worship draws from far.

All hail! then, sweetest Saviour, thrice all hail!

The King of Kings, by David's prophesying; Yet on no royal couch Thy first weak wail Awoke, for in a manger Thou wast lying: Still for that condescension more a King Than having all the whole world's wealth could bring.

Thus with Earth's humblest brothering thy estate, Thus to Earth's mightiest giving meek example, The lowly Thou exaltest to be great, The proud thou teachest on their pride to trample.

So, turning poor men rich and rich men poor, For each Thou makest his salvation sure.

A CHRISTMAS CAROL OF THE EPIPHANY

Now who are these who from afar Follow yon solitary star?

Whence journey they and what the quest That turns their faces towards the west?

Three Kings are they and Mages three, Who in their camel company, With offerings rich, still onward press, Across the wintry wilderness.

Nine months agone, Isaiah's page They pondered o'er with questioning sage, When underneath their wondering eyes His words were altered in this wise:

"Behold a Virgin hath conceived!"

They saw, and marvelled, and believed, And hasted forth upon the morn To greet the King that should be born.

Afar they fared by land and flood, The while they saw, with bounding blood, A star that did all stars exceed In wonder still their footsteps lead.

Until, amid the falling snow, They found the Highest laid most low; His palace but a cattle shed, A manger for His princely bed.

And there they bent with holy joy And hope before the new-born Boy; And opened, at His infant feet, Their royal offerings rich and sweet.

A FOURTEENTH-CENTURY CAROL

When G.o.d came down on Earth to dwell, Great cold befell: Yet Mary on the road hath seen A fig-tree green.

Said Joseph: "O Mary, let the fruit hang; For thirty good mile we have still to gang, Lest we be late!"

When Mary unto a village door At last did win, She thus bespake the cottager: "Sir, take us in!

Since for this young Child's tender sake A pitying heart must surely ache, The night's so cold."

"You're welcome all to my ox-stall!"

The good man cried.

But in the middle of the night He rose and sighed: "Where are ye now, poor hapless ones?

That ye're not frozen to the bones, I marvel much."

Then back into his house he runs From forth the byre-- "Rouse up, rouse up, my dearest wife, And light a fire, As fine as ever sent up smoke, Whereat these poor and perishing folk May comfort them."

Mary with joy into the house The Babe has brought, Joseph her just and faithful spouse, His wallet sought.

Therefrom he took a kettle small; Some snow the Child therein let fall, And lo 'tis flour!

Thereto the Babe has added ice; 'Tis sugar straight!

Now water drops, and, in a trice, 'Tis milk most sweet!

The kettle, fast as you could look, They hung upon the kitchen hook A meal to cook.

The G.o.dly Joseph carved a spoon From out a brand; To ivory it changed full soon And adamant.

When Mary gave the Babe the food, He became Jesus, Son of G.o.d.

Before their eyes.

EARTH'S EASTER