Songs Before Sunrise Part 13

G.o.d whose eyes are skies Love-lit as with spheres By the lights that rise To thy watching eyes, Orbed lights of tears;

G.o.d whose heart hath part In all grief that is, Was not man's 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 G.o.dhead 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 s.p.a.ce 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 men's eyes Saw thee not more clear Than they saw thee rise Who in shepherd's 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 men's 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 sun's doth heat, Let thy sunbright face Lighten time and s.p.a.ce 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 G.o.d no rod, That ye tread so light?

Man on us as G.o.d, G.o.d as man hath trod, Trod us down with might.

We that one by one Bleed from either's rod.

What for us hath done Man beneath the sun, What for us hath G.o.d?

We whose blood is food Given your wealth to feed, From the Christless rood Red with no G.o.d's blood, But with man's 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 G.o.d as ye by name, Teach our lips your prayer?

G.o.d, 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 Heaven's high noon denies, Whom the blind beams smite That for you s.h.i.+ne 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 pa.s.s 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 G.o.d would do That they sought unto While the blind years ran.

Brotherhood of good, Equal laws and rights, Freedom, whose sweet food Feeds the mult.i.tude All their days and nights

With the bread full-fed Of her body blest And the soul's 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?