Our Lady of Snows, by Lionel Johnson
by VP
Posted on Friday August 05, 2022 at 01:00AM in Poetry
Far from the world, far from delight,
Distinguishing not day from night ;
Vowed to one sacrifice of all
The happy things, that men befall ;
Pleading one sacrifice, before
Whom sun and sea and wind adore;
Far from earth's comfort, far away,
We cry to God, we cry and pray
For men, who have the common day.
Dance, merry world! and sing: but we.
Hearing, remember Calvary:
Get gold, and thrive you ! but the sun
Once paled ; and the centurion
Said : This dead man was Gods own Son,
Think you, we shrink from common toil,
Works of the mart, works of the soil ;
That, prisoners of strong despair,
We breathe this melancholy air;
Forgetting the dear calls of race,
And bonds of house, and ties of place;
That, cowards, from the field we turn.
And heavenward, in our weakness, yearn?
Unjust! unkind! while you despise
Our lonely years, our mournful cries:
You are the happier for our prayer;
The guerdon of our souls, you share.
Not in such feebleness of heart,
We play our solitary part;
Not fugitives of battle, we
Hide from the world, and let things be:
But rather, looking over earth,
Between the bounds of death and birth ;
And sad at heart, for sorrow and sin.
We wondered, where might help begin.
And on our wonder came God's choice,
A sudden light, a clarion voice,
Clearing the dark, and sounding clear :
And we obeyed: behold us, here!
In prison bound, but with your chains:
Sufferers, but of alien pains.
Merry the world, and thrives apace.
Each in his customary place:
Sailors upon the carrying sea.
Shepherds upon the pasture lea,
And merchants of the town ; and they,
Who march to death, the fighting way;
And there are lovers in the spring.
With those, who dance, and those, who sing:
The commonwealth of every day.
Eastward and westward, far away.
Once the sun paled; once cried aloud
The Roman, from beneath the cloud:
This day the Son of God is dead!
Yet heed men, what the Roman said?
They heed not : we then heed for them,
The mindless of Jerusalem ;
Careless, they live and die : but we
Care, in their stead, for Calvary.
O joyous men and women! strong,
To urge the wheel of life along.
With strenuous arm, and cheerful strain,
And wisdom of laborious brain:
We give our life, our heart, our breath,
That you may live to conquer death;
That, past your tomb, with souls in health,
Joy may be yours, and blessed wealth;
Through vigils of the painful night.
Our spirits with your tempters fight:
For you, for you, we live alone.
Where no joy comes, where cold winds moan:
Nor friends have we, nor have we foes ;
Our Queen is of the lonely Snows.
Ah! and sometimes, our prayers between.
Come sudden thoughts of what hath been :
Dreams! And from dreams, once more we fall
To prayer : God save, Christ keep, them all.
And thou, who knowest not these things,
Hearken, what news our message brings!
Our toils, thy joy of life forgot:
Our lives of prayer forget thee not.
Source: Dreams and Images: An Anthology of Catholic Poets by Joyce Kilmer (Boni and Liveright, 1917) p109