May Carols Part 7

"Then shall ye answer make, and say, "Behold, since first the corn was green "No little Infant pa.s.sed this way; "No little Infant we have seen."

Earth heard; nor missed the Maid's intent-- As on the Flower of Eden pa.s.sed With Eden swiftness up she sent A sun-browned harvest ripening fast.

By simplest words and sinless wheat The messengers rode back beguiled; And by that truthfullest deceit Which saved the little new-born Child!

{38}

PART II.

{39}{40}

{41}

PART II.

_Conservabat in Corde._

I.

As every change of April sky Is imaged in a placid brook, Her meditative memory Mirrored His every deed and look.

As suns through summer ether rolled Mature each growth the spring has wrought, So Love's strong day-star turned to gold Her harvests of quiescent thought.

Her soul was as a vase, and shone Translucent to an inner ray; Her Maker's finger wrote thereon A mystic Bible new each day.

Deep Heart! In all His sevenfold might The Paraclete with thee abode; And, sacramented there in light, Bore witness of the things of G.o.d.

{42}

_Ascensio Domini_.

II.

Rejoice, O Earth, thy crown is won!

Rejoice, rejoice, ye heavenly host!

And thou, the Mother of the Son, Rejoice the first; rejoice the most!

Who captive led captivity-- From Hades' void circ.u.mference Who led the Patriarch Band on high, There rules, and sends us graces thence.

Rejoice, glad Earth, o'er winter's grave With altars wreathed and clarions blown; And thou, the Race Redeemed, outbrave The rites of nature with thine own!

Rejoice, O Mary! thou that long Didst lean thy breast upon the sword-- Sad nightingale, the Spirit's song That sang'st all night! He reigns, restored!

Rejoice! He goes, the Paraclete To send! Rejoice! He reigns on high!

The sword lies broken at thy feet-- His triumph is thy victory!

{43}

_Ascensio Domini._

III.

I take this reed--I know the hand That wields it must ere long be dust-- And write, upon the fleeting sand Each wind can shake, the words, "I trust."

And if that sand one day was stone And stood in courses near the sky, For towers by earthquake overthrown, Or mouldering piecemeal, what care I?

Things earthly perish: life to death And death to life in turn succeeds.

The spirit never perisheth: The chrysalis its Psyche breeds.

True life alone is that which soars To Him who triumphed o'er the grave: With Him, on life's eternal sh.o.r.es, I trust one day a part to have.

Ah, hark! above the springing corn That chime; in every breeze it swells!

Ye bells that wake the Ascension morn, Ye give us back our Paschal bells!

{44}

_Elias._

IV.

O thou that rodest up the skies, Thy task fulfilled, on steeds of fire,-- That somewhere, sealed from mortal eyes, Some air immortal dost respire!

Thou that in heavenly beams enshrined, In quiet lulled of soul and flesh, With one great thought of G.o.d thy mind Dost everlastingly refresh!

Where art thou? age succeeds to age; Thou dost not hear their fret and jar: With thy celestial hermitage Successive winters wage not war.

Still as a corse with field-flowers strewn Thou liest; on G.o.d thine eyes are bent: And the fire-breathing stars alone Look in upon thy cloudy tent.

Behold, there is a debt to pay!

Like Enoch, hid thou art on high: But both shall back return one day, To gaze once more on earth, and die.