Christmas Antiphones

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.