CHRISTMAS AT ST. KAVIN'S

We meet once more for gladness by God's leave.

On other festal days 
For penitence or praise 
Or prayer we meet, or fulness of thanksgiving; 
To-night we calendar 

The rising of that star 
Which lit the old world with new joy of living.

Ah, we disparage still 
The Tidings of Good Will,
Discrediting Love's gospel now as then! 

With anger and vindictiveness endowed.

Of old, men walked by hate;
The ruthless were the great;
Their crumbling kingdoms stayed by might alone.
Men saw vast empires die,

Nor guessed the reason why,—
The simple law of life as yet unknown

As love. Then came our Lord,
Proclaiming the accord
Of soul and nature in love's rule and sway,

Save against greed and ignorance and might. 
We apprehend peace comes 
Not with the roll of drums, 
But in the still processions of the night.

And we perceive, not awe 

And its unique appointed orbit trace.

There is no near nor far, 
Where glorious Algebar
Swings round his mighty circuit through the night, 
Yet where without a sound 

The winged seed comes to ground,
And the red leaf seems hardly to alight.

One force, one lore, one need 
For satellite and seed, 
In the serene benignity for all. 

The summer sunset's scarlet-yellow wings 
Are tinged with the same dye 
That paints the tulip's ply.
And what is colour but the soul of things?

In Nature's love there is no small nor great.

Of old, men said, "Sin not; 
By every line and jot
Ye shall abide; man's heart is false and vile."
Christ said, "By Love alone 

In man's heart is God known; 
Obey the word no falsehood can defile."

The wise physician there
Of our distress had care,
And laid his finger on the pulse of time.

The starry pageant and the life of earth? 
What is the genesis 
Of every joy and bliss, 
Each action dared, each beauty brought to birth?

What hangs the sun on high? 

Some magic calls the sleeper and he hears,— 

Arouses, puts forth blade 
And leaf and bud, arrayed 
Some morning in that garb of rosy snow, 
The same fair matchless flower 

As shed its petal-shower 
Through old Iberean gardens long ago.

What is it that endures, 
Survives, persists, immures 
Life's very self, preserving type and plan?— 

Yet learns the scope of change, 
As the long cycles range,— 
Looks through the eyes of bluebird, wolf, and man?

What lurks in the deep gaze 
Of the old wolf? Amaze,

Hope, recognition, gladness, anger, fear. 
But deeper than all these 
Love muses, yearns, and sees, 
And is the self that does not change nor veer.

Not love of self alone,

The summer woods with song,
Love gave them beauty and love lends them voice.

Love surely in some form 
Bade them brave night and storm,— 
Was the dark binnacle that held them true, 

Those tiny mariners 
No unknown voyage deters, 
When the old migrant longing stirs anew.

And who has understood 
Our brothers of the wood,

Save he who put off guile and every guise 
Of violence,—made truce 
With panther, bear, and moose, 
As beings like ourselves whom love makes wise?

For they, too, do love's will,

The primal purpose groping up to mind.

Adversity but bade 
New puissance spring to aid,
New powers develop, new aptness come in play;
Yet never function wrought 

Capacity from nought,— 
Gave skill and mastery to the shapes of clay;

For always while new need 
Evoked new thought through deed, 
Old self was there to ponder, choose, and strive. 

Fortune might mould, evolve,
But impulse must resolve, 
Equipped at length to know, rejoice, and thrive.

And evermore must Love 
Hearten, foresee, approve, 

And look upon the work and find it good; 
Else would all effort fail,— The very stars avail 
Less than a swarm of fireflies in a wood.

Take love out of the world 

One day, and we are hurled 
Back into night, to perish in the void. 
Love is the very girth 
And cincture of this earth, 
No stitch to be unloosed, no link destroyed.

His name who taught mankind
That open secret old, yet ever new,— 

Commemorate his birth 
Who loved the kindly earth, 
Was gentle, strong, compassionate, humane, 

And tolerant and wise 
And glad,—the very guise 
And height of manhood not to lose again.

Shall we not then forego
Lavish perfunctory show,

Guides to the unforetold? 
Blessed the craftsman who is unafraid!

Give Beauty her sweet will, 
Make love your mistress still, 
You lovers, nor delay! God's time be yours. 

Make low-born jealousy 
And doubt ashamed to be, 
And cast old envious gossip out-of-doors.

Believe the truth of love, 
Enact the beauty of love, 

Praise and adore the goodliness of love.
For we are wise by love, 
And strong and fair through love, 
No less than sainted and inspired with love.

Remember the new word

So is the round world richer for your joy.

Love only, one or all! 
Measure no great and small! 
Love is a seed, life-bearing, undecayed; 
And that immortal germ 

Past bounds of zone and term 
Will grow and cover the whole world with shade.

Sow love, it cannot fail; 
Adversity's sharp hail
May cut all else to ground; fair love survives. 

The black frost of despair 
And slander's bitter air,—
Love will outlast them by a thousand lives.

Be body, mind and soul, 
Subject to love's control,

Each loving to the limit of love's power; 
And all as one, not three, 
So is man's trinity 
Enhanced and freed and gladdened hour by hour.

Beauty from youth to age,

As the good hours go by; 
Love now, see earth take on the glory tint.

Open the door to-night 
Within your heart, and light
The lantern of love there to shine afar.