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Read Ebook: Sales Resistance by Still Henry Emshwiller Ed Illustrator
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Ebook has 174 lines and 7760 words, and 4 pages
PAGE
YULE TIDE 1
THE MADONNA DI SAN SISTO 6
BETHLEHEM GATE 11
SAINT JOSEPH 16
A CRADLE SONG 18
A CRADLED CHILD 23
AN EMPTY CRADLE 26
NEW YEAR'S EVE 28
THE VICTIM 30
THE DAYSMAN 33
THE PHYSICIAN 36
THE POET 40
THREE SISTERS 43
A CHRISTMAS PUZZLE 46
FOUR EPIPHANIES 48
THE CHILDREN'S EUCHARIST 56
THE GOSPEL SONGS:
NOTES 69
The Royal Birthday dawns again, A stricken world to bless; And sufferers forget their pain, And mourners their distress.
Love sings to-day; her eyes so fair With happy tears are wet; She is too humble to despair, Too faithful to forget.
Her voice is very soft and sweet, Her heart is brave and strong; Her vassal, I would fain repeat Some fragments of her song.
A Birthday-song my heart would sing Its rapture to express; My Father's son must be a king, And share His consciousness.
Of God's Self-knowledge comes the Word That utters all His Thought; That Word made Flesh by all is heard Who seek as they are sought.
His seeking and His finding make Our search an easy thing; He sows good seed, and bids us take The joys of harvesting.
Yet must His children do their part, And what He gives accept; No heart can understand His Heart That has not bled and wept.
All seasons, bring they bale or bliss, His priceless treasures hold; The Winter's silver all is His, And His the Summer's gold.
Such manhood gained concludes the strife That makes the babe a boy; 'T is thus the seed becomes a life, The life becomes a joy.
The eyes that weep are eyes that see, And swift are pilgrim-feet; Ah! hope at length may come to be Than memory more sweet.
So keeping festival to-day, With children's laughter near, It is not hard to sing and pray, 'T is hard to doubt or fear.
Father, my heart to Thee I bring, To Thee my song address; From Winter pain and toil of Spring Grows Summer happiness.
'The Lord Himself shall give you a sign; behold, a Virgin shall conceive and bear a Son.'
Behold, by Raphael shown, Love's sacrament! Earth's curtains part, God's veil is lifted up; There comes a Child, forth from His Bosom sent To rule the feast of life, His Bread and Cup, His purpose making plain with man to sup. Out-streams the light, accomplished is the Sign, A Virgin-Mother clasps a Babe Divine.
Her lovely feet descend the cloudy stair, Great succour bringing to a world forlorn; On either side a man and woman share A common rapture, welcoming the dawn Of God's new day, the everlasting morn-- Of such a day as shall from East to West Dispel the darkness, doing Love's behest.
He turns a face all radiant to the Sun, Enamoured of the sight he looks upon; She to the end of what is now begun Downgazes, stooping, shadowed by the throne Made by a Maiden's arms, maternal grown; Than ivory most fair, than purest gold, More pure, more fair, and stronger to uphold.
On cherubs twain, whom watching has made wise, A spell has fallen--a prophetic dream; Their upward-gazing and far-seeing eyes, Like stars reflected in a tranquil stream, To look beyond the Child and Mother seem; A twisted thorn-branch and a cross to them Are manifest--His throne and diadem.
High heaven open stands, and there a crowd Of worshippers with love-lit eyes appear, Like stars down-gazing through a fleecy cloud, Dimly discerned as morning draweth near Spreading a radiant pall upon night's bier. The blessed thing the Sign doth signify They partly know, and are made glad thereby.
But more the Mother knows, and more she sees Than soaring angel or than climbing saint; Her heart familiar grown with mysteries Of God's own working under love's constraint, The remedy she knows for man's complaint. The clouds are all beneath her, and above The light of life, the radiancy of love.
And He, Whom Lord of love and life we hail, Is on her bosom borne, a blossom fair; The pentecostal breath that lifts her veil Has fanned His royal brow, and stirred His hair, And kissed His lips just parted for a prayer. That spirit-wind shall blow, that Face shall shine, Till all His brothers know their Father's Sign.
DRESDEN: 1883.
FOOTNOTES:
Of old through gates that closed on them Two exiles went with eyes downcast; The Present now retrieves the Past, God's Eden is in Bethlehem.
Behold the Prince of Peace! around His cradle angry tempests rage; He needs must go on pilgrimage, An exile, homeless and discrowned.
And yet, His Rank to designate, The unquenched Star of Bethlehem Shines forth, a radiant diadem; While Angels on His footsteps wait.
E'en now the Father's Face they see, A triumph-song e'en now they sing, And, wondering and worshipping, Attend His Pilgrim-Family.
Two guard the frowning gateway: one Is of a solemn countenance; To him a rapid backward glance Reveals a massacre begun.
The other, forward gazing, sees The glory of the age to come, The fruitfulness of martyrdom, Of deaths that are nativities.
O weeping mothers, dry your tears! The Mother whom this canvass shows Nor fears, nor weeps, although she knows An anguish deeper than your fears.
Her Burden is upholding her; And, guided by the Holy Dove, She sees the victory of Love Beyond the Cross and Sepulchre.
To shield her, Joseph stands: his care The shadow of God's Providence. How fragrant is the frankincense Of their uninterrupted prayer!
Through ever-open gates they press, A new and living way they tread, So gain they the true 'House of Bread,' A garden for a wilderness.
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