A Hymn of the Nativity

Each of us his lamb will bring,

Each his pair of silver doves,

Till burnt at last in fire of Thy fair eyes,
Ourselves become our own best sacrifice.

RICHARD CRASHAW

42. SATAN'S SIGHT OF THE NATIVITY

HE

[EAVEN'S golden-winged herald late he saw
To a poor Galilean virgin sent:

How long the bright youth bowed, and with what

awe

Immortal flowers to her fair hand present.

He saw th' old Hebrew's womb neglect the law
Of age and barrenness, and her babe prevent
His birth by his devotion, who began
Betimes to be a saint, before a man.

He saw rich nectar thaws release the rigour
Of th' icy north, from frost-bound Atlas' hands
His adamantine fetters fall; green vigour
Gladding the Scythian rocks and Libyan sands.
He saw a vernal smile sweetly disfigure
Winter's sad face, and through the flowery lands

Of fair Engaddi's honey-sweating fountains
With manna, milk, and balm new broach the
mountains.

Satan's Sight of the Nativity

He saw how in that blest day-bearing night
The heaven rebukèd shades made haste away;
How bright a dawn of angels with new light
Amazed the midnight world, and made a day
Of which the morning knew not; mad with spight
He mark'd how the poor shepherds ran to pay

Their simple tribute to the Babe, whose birth
Was the great business both of heaven and earth.

He saw a threefold sun with rich increase
Make proud the ruby portals of the East,
He saw the temple sacred to sweet peace
Adore her Prince's birth flat on her breast.
He saw the falling idols all confess

A coming Deity. He saw the nest

Of poisonous and unnatural loves, earth-nurst,
Touch'd with the world's true antidote, to burst.

He saw heaven blossom with a new-born light,
On which, as on a glorious stranger, gazed
The golden eyes of night, whose beam made bright
The way to Bethlem; and as boldly blazed
(Nor ask'd leave of the sun) by day as night.

By whom (as heaven's illustrious handmaid) raised
Three kings or, what is more, three wise men went
Westward to find the world's true orient.

Satan's Sight of the Nativity

That the great angel-blinding light should shrink
His blaze to shine in a poor shepherd's eye,

That the unmeasured God so low should sink
As Pris'ner in a few poor rags to lie,

That from His mother's breast He milk should drink
Who feeds with nectar heaven's fair family,

That a vile manger His low bed should prove

Who in a throne of stars thunders above :

That He, whom the sun serves, should faintly peep
Through clouds of infant flesh; that He the old
Eternal Word should be a Child and weep,

That He who made the fire should fear the cold:
That heaven's high majesty His court should keep
In a clay cottage, by each blast controll❜d:

That glory's self should serve our griefs and fears,
And free Eternity submit to years;

And further, that the law's eternal Giver
Should bleed in His own law's obedience;
And to the circumcising knife deliver
Himself, the forfeit of His slave's offence;
That the unblemish'd Lamb, blessed for ever,
Should take the mark of sin, and pain of sense :—

These are the knotty riddles, whose dark doubt
Entangle his lost thoughts past getting out.

RICHARD CRASHAW (from Sospetto d'Herode)

43.

A HYMN FOR THE EPIPHANY

[Sung as by the three kings.]

Ist King.

B

RIGHT Babe! whose awful beauties make

The morn incur a sweet mistake;

2nd King.

For whom the officious heavens devise

To disinherit the sun's rise;

3rd King.

Delicately to displace

The day, and plant it fairer in thy face;
1st King.

O Thou born King of loves!

2nd King. Of lights!

3rd King. Of joys!

Chorus.

Look up, sweet Babe, look up and see!

For love of Thee,

Thus far from home,

The East is come

To seek herself in Thy sweet eyes.

Ist King.

We who strangely went astray,

Lost in a bright

Meridian night;

2nd King.

A darkness made of too much day;

3rd King.

A Hymn for the Epiphany

Beckoned from far,

By thy fair star,

Lo, at last have found our way.

Chorus.

To thee, thou Day of Night; thou East of West!

Lo, we at last have found the way

To thee, the world's great universal East,
The general and indifferent day.

Ist King.

All-circling point! all-centring sphere! The world's one, round, eternal year: 2nd King.

Whose full and all-unwrinkled face,

Nor sinks nor swells, with time or place; 3rd King.

But everywhere and every while

Is one consistent solid smile.

Ist King.

Not vexed and tost,

2nd King.

"Twixt spring and frost;

3rd King.

Nor by alternate shreds of light,

Sordidly shifting hands with shades and night.
Chorus.

O little All, in Thy embrace,

The world lies warm and likes his place;

Nor does his full globe fail to be

Kissed on both his cheeks by Thee;