View PDF

1937 

Christ through a troubled world drags his cross, 
Wishful that on this his birthday night 
Someone gentle toward his message might 
Offer him sanctuary. But in a lost 
Cause his back breaks. Eyes stunned to stare 
At brother’s blood on brother will not see 
His white hands of pity, nor will he 
Whose gods are the steel nerves of electric air. 

Fortunate those who by some chance of race 
Or creed or accident of home, still know 
The hope of cattle kneeling, and the glow 
Of tranquil love, the quiet after grace. 
Fortunate they whose fragrant hearths are blessed 
By him who pauses weary there, for rest. 

1940 

Well, we know it now, the ultimate good, 
Know for ourselves by tautening bowel and breath: 
Refrain of Christmas song, half understood, 
How it is beaten into life by death! 
Stripped of its tinsel, it is all things dear: 
Now it is song itself, and food and light, 
Now it is safety and the anchoring year, 
Sharing by day, and comfort in the night. 

So we would wish you peace beside your fire, 
Peace with your children, peace between you two, 
Peace with your friends, and those you serve or hire, 
Peace in your country — In warped hate they slew 
Again the Prince of Peace, and in defeat 
Flung Peace on Earth a shambles at his feet. 

1944 

The temple shafts are broken, and the rich 
Brocade of ceremony, scattered threads. 
In the dark earth the spent libation spreads. 
Priestess and priest lie stolid in their niche. 

But he goes to his grave still unfulfilled 
Who never served before some altar stone; 
And he goes unredeemed who has not known 
The midnight incense and the offering spilled. 

Ah then, be comforted while yet we raise 
Shrines by the hearth, temples of pillared fir. 
Priests let us be. Anoint our hands with myrrh. 
“Jesus, our Lord, how marvelous are Thy ways, 
So newly come from God, still free from sorrow, 
Our treasured joy today, our hope tomorrow.”