The Poetry Corner

Christmas Antiphones

By Algernon Charles Swinburne

I IN CHURCH Thou whose birth on earth Angels sang to men, While thy stars made mirth, Saviour, at thy birth, This day born again; As this night was bright With thy cradle-ray, Very light of light, Turn the wild worlds night To thy perfect day. God whose feet made sweet Those wild ways they trod, From thy fragrant feet Staining field and street With the blood of God; God whose breast is rest In the time of strife, In thy secret breast Sheltering souls opprest From the heat of life; God whose eyes are skies Love-lit as with spheres By the lights that rise To thy watching eyes, Orbed lights of tears; God whose heart hath part In all grief that is, Was not mans the dart That went through thine heart, And the wound not his? Where the pale souls wail, Held in bonds of death, Where all spirits quail, Came thy Godhead pale Still from human breath Pale from life and strife, Wan with manhood, came Forth of mortal life, Pierced as with a knife, Scarred as with a flame. Thou the Word and Lord In all time and space Heard, beheld, adored, With all ages poured Forth before thy face, Lord, what worth in earth Drew thee down to die? What therein was worth, Lord, thy death and birth? What beneath thy sky? Light above all love By thy love was lit, And brought down the Dove Feathered from above With the wings of it. From the height of night, Was not thine the star That led forth with might By no worldly light Wise men from afar? Yet the wise mens eyes Saw thee not more clear Than they saw thee rise Who in shepherds guise Drew as poor men near. Yet thy poor endure, And are with us yet; Be thy name a sure Refuge for thy poor Whom mens eyes forget. Thou whose ways we praised, Clear alike and dark, Keep our works and ways This and all thy days Safe inside thine ark. Who shall keep thy sheep, Lord, and lose not one? Who save one shall keep, Lest the shepherds sleep? Who beside the Son? From the grave-deep wave, From the sword and flame, Thou, even thou, shalt save Souls of king and slave Only by thy Name. Light not born with morn Or her fires above, Jesus virgin-born, Held of men in scorn, Turn their scorn to love. Thou whose face gives grace As the suns doth heat, Let thy sunbright face Lighten time and space Here beneath thy feet. Bid our peace increase, Thou that madest morn; Bid oppressions cease; Bid the night be peace; Bid the day be born. II OUTSIDE CHURCH We whose days and ways All the night makes dark, What day shall we praise Of these weary days That our life-drops mark? We whose mind is blind, Fed with hope of nought; Wastes of worn mankind, Without heart or mind, Without meat or thought; We with strife of life Worn till all life cease, Want, a whetted knife, Sharpening strife on strife, How should we love peace? Ye whose meat is sweet And your wine-cup red, Us beneath your feet Hunger grinds as wheat, Grinds to make you bread. Ye whose night is bright With soft rest and heat, Clothed like day with light, Us the naked night Slays from street to street. Hath your God no rod, That ye tread so light? Man on us as God, God as man hath trod, Trod us down with might. We that one by one Bleed from eithers rod. What for us hath done Man beneath the sun, What for us hath God? We whose blood is food Given your wealth to feed, From the Christless rood Red with no Gods blood, But with mans indeed; How shall we that see Nightlong overhead Life, the flowerless tree, Nailed whereon as we Were our fathers dead We whose ear can hear, Not whose tongue can name, Famine, ignorance, fear, Bleeding tear by tear Year by year of shame, Till the dry life die Out of bloodless breast, Out of beamless eye, Out of mouths that cry Till death feed with rest How shall we as ye, Though ye bid us, pray? Though ye call, can we Hear you call, or see, Though ye show us day? We whose name is shame, We whose souls walk bare, Shall we call the same God as ye by name, Teach our lips your prayer? God, forgive and give, For His sake who died? Nay, for ours who live, How shall we forgive Thee, then, on our side? We whose right to light Heavens high noon denies, Whom the blind beams smite That for you shine bright, And but burn our eyes, With what dreams of beams Shall we build up day, At what sourceless streams Seek to drink in dreams Ere they pass away? In what street shall meet, At what market-place, Your feet and our feet, With one goal to greet, Having run one race? What one hope shall ope For us all as one One same horoscope, Where the soul sees hope That outburns the sun? At what shrine what wine, At what board what bread, Salt as blood or brine, Shall we share in sign How we poor were fed? In what hour what power Shall we pray for morn, If your perfect hour, When all day bears flower, Not for us is born? III BEYOND CHURCH Ye that weep in sleep, Souls and bodies bound, Ye that all night keep Watch for change, and weep That no change is found; Ye that cry and die, And the world goes on Without ear or eye, And the days go by Till all days are gone; Man shall do for you, Men the sons of man, What no God would do That they sought unto While the blind years ran. Brotherhood of good, Equal laws and rights, Freedom, whose sweet food Feeds the multitude All their days and nights With the bread full-fed Of her body blest And the souls wine shed From her table spread Where the world is guest, Mingling me and thee, When like light of eyes Flashed through thee and me Truth shall make us free, Liberty make wise; These are they whom day Follows and gives light Whence they see to slay Night, and burn away All the seed of night. What of thine and mine, What of want and wealth, When one faith is wine For my heart and thine And one draught is health? For no sect elect Is the souls wine poured And her table decked; Whom should man reject From mans common board? Gods refuse and choose, Grudge and sell and spare; None shall man refuse, None of all men lose, None leave out of care. No mans might of sight Knows that hour before; No mans hand hath might To put back that light For one hour the more. Not though all men call, Kneeling with void hands, Shall they see light fall Till it come for all Tribes of men and lands. No desire brings fire Down from heaven by prayer, Though mans vain desire Hang faiths wind-struck lyre Out in tuneless air. One hath breath and saith What the tune shall be Time, who puts his breath Into life and death, Into earth and sea. To and fro years flow, Fill their tides and ebb, As his fingers go Weaving to and fro One unfinished web. All the range of change Hath its bounds therein, All the lives that range All the byways strange Named of death or sin. Star from far to star Speaks, and white moons wake, Watchful from afar What the nights ways are For the mornings sake. Many names and flames Pass and flash and fall, Night-begotten names, And the night reclaims, As she bare them, all. But the sun is one, And the suns name Right; And when light is none Saving of the sun, All men shall have light. All shall see and be Parcel of the morn; Ay, though blind were we, None shall choose but see When that day is born.