Poems (Kimball)/Holy Mysteries

by Harriet McEwen Kimball

HOLY MYSTERIES.

HOW can it be—the sweet new birth
 Of water and the Spirit wrought,
Beyond the wisdom of the earth
 To understand or bring to nought!
      We know not how;
      We only bow
       And say, Amen.

How can it be—the Holy Ghost
 His seven4old gifts on men bestows
Through laying on of hands that boast
 No power the mystery to disclose!
      We know not how;
      We only bow
       And say, Amen.

How can it be—the priestly prayer
 Of consecration duly said,
And we the one Oblation share,
 And feed upon the Living Bread!
      We know not how;
      We only bow
       And say, Amen.

How can it be—the precious Blood
 Once shed for man doth never fail,
But flows a sacramental flood
 That contrite sinners shall avail
      We know not how;
      We only bow
       And say, Amen.

How can it be—from age to age.
 Since the great day of Pentecost,
The Church abides, though heathen rage,
 The grace of Orders never lost!
      We know not how;
      We only bow
       And say Amen.

How can it be—goes forth the word
 Of holy Church, and twain are one:
Type of Her union with Her Lord,
 Foreshadowed when the race begun
      We know not how;
      We only bow
       And say Amen.

How can it be that wine and bread
 In death's dark hour shall life afford,
Till with His unveiled Presence fed
 We are forever with the Lord!
      We know not how;
      We only bow
       And say Amen.