Poems (Kimball)/The Christian Year
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THE CHRISTIAN YEAR.
ADVENT: now begins the year,
Opening with holy fear.
Haste, ye faithful, to prepare
For the coming in the air
Of the Lord with angels bright
Thronging from the heavenly height
He shall come our Judge to be;
Haste, ye faithful; bow the knee;
Watch ye all, and watching pray:
"Jesus, spare us in that Day!"
Opening with holy fear.
Haste, ye faithful, to prepare
For the coming in the air
Of the Lord with angels bright
Thronging from the heavenly height
He shall come our Judge to be;
Haste, ye faithful; bow the knee;
Watch ye all, and watching pray:
"Jesus, spare us in that Day!"
Christmas: time of exultation,
Joy, and peace, and adoration,
Telling how of old He came,
Sinless Babe of Saving Name;
How the shepherds, angel-sent,
Swift to Bethlehem's manger went,
There to find the Child foretold
By all Prophet-tongues of old;
Little King, no sceptre bearing,
But the meanest shelter sharing;
Son of God, His glory hiding,
And as Man with man abiding;
Son of Mary, lowly Maiden,
With eternal honor laden;
Little Jesus, coming still
To the hearts He fain would fill;
Finding with the meek a place
To exalt them through His grace;
While the angels, as of yore,
Praises still on praises pour,
And with "Merry Christmas" sweet
Christians all good Christians greet.
Joy, and peace, and adoration,
Telling how of old He came,
Sinless Babe of Saving Name;
How the shepherds, angel-sent,
Swift to Bethlehem's manger went,
There to find the Child foretold
By all Prophet-tongues of old;
Little King, no sceptre bearing,
But the meanest shelter sharing;
Son of God, His glory hiding,
And as Man with man abiding;
Son of Mary, lowly Maiden,
With eternal honor laden;
Little Jesus, coming still
To the hearts He fain would fill;
Finding with the meek a place
To exalt them through His grace;
While the angels, as of yore,
Praises still on praises pour,
And with "Merry Christmas" sweet
Christians all good Christians greet.
Circumcision: showing forth
Of obedience the worth,
When the little Jesus, brought
To the Rite commanded, taught
All his children to obey,
Following in the Church's way;
To be pure as He is pure,
Seeking pleasures that endure.
Of obedience the worth,
When the little Jesus, brought
To the Rite commanded, taught
All his children to obey,
Following in the Church's way;
To be pure as He is pure,
Seeking pleasures that endure.
Epiphany: whose wondrous Star
Led the Magi from afar,
And the Christ revealed to them
In the Babe of Bethlehem.
Precious gold to Him they bring,
Thus acknowledging their King;
Precious frankincense they pour
For the God whom they adore;
Precious myrrh their love supplies
For their Lord and Sacrifice.
Every gift we can command
Of loyal heart and loyal hand,
Every deed that serves to show
Heavenly love in love below,
Jesus claims as tribute due,
All good Christians, now from you.
Led the Magi from afar,
And the Christ revealed to them
In the Babe of Bethlehem.
Precious gold to Him they bring,
Thus acknowledging their King;
Precious frankincense they pour
For the God whom they adore;
Precious myrrh their love supplies
For their Lord and Sacrifice.
Every gift we can command
Of loyal heart and loyal hand,
Every deed that serves to show
Heavenly love in love below,
Jesus claims as tribute due,
All good Christians, now from you.
When Epiphany is spent,
Sundays three, like heralds sent,
Cry aloud the Fast of Lent.
Septuagesima first, and second
Sexagesima is reckoned;
Quinquagesima, the last;
Then comes in the solemn Fast,
With Ash Wednesday's litanies,
That from hearts repentant rise.
Forty days at Jesus' feet
Hide we now in blest retreat.
At their close through Holy Week,
We His way of sorrow seek,
Entering first Jerusalem,
While the throngs His progress hem,
And with shouts of welcome press
Zion's lowly King to bless,
Scattering palms along His way
On that one triumphant Day.
Though they shout, He weeps aloud
O'er the self-deceiving crowd.
Through that Week we see Him bear
Anguish none can know or share;
On Good Friday follow Him
Scourged and bruised in every limb,
And with thorns in insult crowned.
While the foes that Him surround
Gibes and jeers incessant toss
On the Altar of the Cross,
We behold Him meekly die
For the world's iniquity.
Every Friday for His sake
Let us here our station take,
At His feet confession making,
Self and sin abhorred foraking.
Sundays three, like heralds sent,
Cry aloud the Fast of Lent.
Septuagesima first, and second
Sexagesima is reckoned;
Quinquagesima, the last;
Then comes in the solemn Fast,
With Ash Wednesday's litanies,
That from hearts repentant rise.
Forty days at Jesus' feet
Hide we now in blest retreat.
At their close through Holy Week,
We His way of sorrow seek,
Entering first Jerusalem,
While the throngs His progress hem,
And with shouts of welcome press
Zion's lowly King to bless,
Scattering palms along His way
On that one triumphant Day.
Though they shout, He weeps aloud
O'er the self-deceiving crowd.
Through that Week we see Him bear
Anguish none can know or share;
On Good Friday follow Him
Scourged and bruised in every limb,
And with thorns in insult crowned.
While the foes that Him surround
Gibes and jeers incessant toss
On the Altar of the Cross,
We behold Him meekly die
For the world's iniquity.
Every Friday for His sake
Let us here our station take,
At His feet confession making,
Self and sin abhorred foraking.
Easter-Even: Hour of rest;
Faith's sweet vigil calm and blest.
In the tomb His Body lies,
And His Soul in Paradise
Waits the morn when He shall rise.
Here we watch and watching ponder
On the never-lessened wonder,
How from Baptism we emerge
On the new life's trembling verge,
In His death the "old man" dead
And the "new man" raised instead.
Henceforth now be crucified
All our anger, lust, and pride
Every evil passion die,
Mortified continually!
Faith's sweet vigil calm and blest.
In the tomb His Body lies,
And His Soul in Paradise
Waits the morn when He shall rise.
Here we watch and watching ponder
On the never-lessened wonder,
How from Baptism we emerge
On the new life's trembling verge,
In His death the "old man" dead
And the "new man" raised instead.
Henceforth now be crucified
All our anger, lust, and pride
Every evil passion die,
Mortified continually!
Easter-Day: The "day of days:"
Radiance immortal plays
Round the sepulchre whose door,
Open now can close no more!
Stricken guard and broken seal
To our longing eyes reveal
What the glorious Angel saith
Who unbarred that gate of death:
"He is risen; do not fear;
Jesus is no longer here;
But in lowly Galilee
Ye again your Lord shall see."
Swift, with Alleluias sweet,
Follow we His holy feet,
Singing all the joyful way:
"Christ the Lord has risen to-day!"
Radiance immortal plays
Round the sepulchre whose door,
Open now can close no more!
Stricken guard and broken seal
To our longing eyes reveal
What the glorious Angel saith
Who unbarred that gate of death:
"He is risen; do not fear;
Jesus is no longer here;
But in lowly Galilee
Ye again your Lord shall see."
Swift, with Alleluias sweet,
Follow we His holy feet,
Singing all the joyful way:
"Christ the Lord has risen to-day!"
Precious Easter-Tide: Again
Jesus walks the ways of men;
In a body glorified,
Yet the very same that died,
Pierced in hand b and feet, and side;
And we know in His own time
We shall share that change sublime.
Forty days, most wondrous days!
He in word and act displays
Sign and miracle, the keys
Of His Kingdom's mysteries.
Jesus walks the ways of men;
In a body glorified,
Yet the very same that died,
Pierced in hand b and feet, and side;
And we know in His own time
We shall share that change sublime.
Forty days, most wondrous days!
He in word and act displays
Sign and miracle, the keys
Of His Kingdom's mysteries.
On the great Ascension Day,
When those Forty Days are ended,
With His holy hands extended,
Leading forth His chosen, pressing
To receive His final blessing,
We behold Him pass away
In a cloud of glory rise,
Vanishing from mortal eyes.
Once again the Angels fair,
Tidings wonderful declare;
He shall come again, they say,
As ye saw Him go away.
When those Forty Days are ended,
With His holy hands extended,
Leading forth His chosen, pressing
To receive His final blessing,
We behold Him pass away
In a cloud of glory rise,
Vanishing from mortal eyes.
Once again the Angels fair,
Tidings wonderful declare;
He shall come again, they say,
As ye saw Him go away.
While our hearts within us burn,
With His chosen now we turn
And obedient with them
Go we to Jerusalem,
There in expectation sweet
To wait the Promised Paraclete—
The Holy Ghost, whose tongues of fire
Shall illumine and inspire.
Lo! He comes on Whitsun-Day,
The Holy Ghost for whom we pray,
And on rushing, mighty wings,
Gift of seven-fold gifts he brings,
And His coming marks the birth
Of the Holy Church on earth.
Now our Jesus' mission ended,
Be our triune praises blended
To the Father and the Son
And the Holy Ghost in One.
Holy! Holy! Holy! cry
On the Feast of Trinity;
And till Advent comes again
Alleluia be our strain!
With His chosen now we turn
And obedient with them
Go we to Jerusalem,
There in expectation sweet
To wait the Promised Paraclete—
The Holy Ghost, whose tongues of fire
Shall illumine and inspire.
Lo! He comes on Whitsun-Day,
The Holy Ghost for whom we pray,
And on rushing, mighty wings,
Gift of seven-fold gifts he brings,
And His coming marks the birth
Of the Holy Church on earth.
Now our Jesus' mission ended,
Be our triune praises blended
To the Father and the Son
And the Holy Ghost in One.
Holy! Holy! Holy! cry
On the Feast of Trinity;
And till Advent comes again
Alleluia be our strain!