NAZARETH.
PROLOGUE.
Since Love first looked on life with human eyes,Twixt him and us time like a curtain lies.Of all the years while He made life His ownWith dear familiar touch—how little’s known!The gospels of His Birth, the tale make plainThen two years till He died and rose again,Naught else remains to us of all, save whenHe, at Jerusalem, with learned menWas by His parents found, and taken thenceBack to far Nazareth. And by no senseOf mortal mind from where they now lie hidCan we recover the fair things He did,Growing to man’s estate, that He might dieFor man’s salvation; hidden there they lie,The days which mounted up to Calvary.Yet here on earth that lovely deed was done;Love in man’s form took life from wind and sun,Waked, slept, ate bread, and toiled, and without speed,Patient, made test of each frail weak human need;Found means on small frail feet men’s ways to go;From mother tongue was taught man’s speech to know;So, for man’s making, childhood, boyhood, youth,Each he endowed in turn with deathless truth,Himself the type and pattern for each stageOf human growth. Oh! in what future ageShall we who, seeking that lost Pattern, roam,Find it again, and to that form come home?Ah, friends! this simple showing that ye seeOf Love at Nazareth, this is not He!’Tis but a thought, a fathering wish, a prayerThat with hearts knit we may come closelier there,Where He lived lowly. Lo, He by your sideLies hidden, a waiting guest, still multipliedBy man’s still growing needs,—with such intentHe made humanity His Sacrament;The flesh and blood, which here we beat and bruise,Is Christ’s. Ah, put it to some better use!Be members all with all! Hear what Love saith,And make your home with Him at Nazareth!
Since Love first looked on life with human eyes,Twixt him and us time like a curtain lies.Of all the years while He made life His ownWith dear familiar touch—how little’s known!The gospels of His Birth, the tale make plainThen two years till He died and rose again,Naught else remains to us of all, save whenHe, at Jerusalem, with learned menWas by His parents found, and taken thenceBack to far Nazareth. And by no senseOf mortal mind from where they now lie hidCan we recover the fair things He did,Growing to man’s estate, that He might dieFor man’s salvation; hidden there they lie,The days which mounted up to Calvary.Yet here on earth that lovely deed was done;Love in man’s form took life from wind and sun,Waked, slept, ate bread, and toiled, and without speed,Patient, made test of each frail weak human need;Found means on small frail feet men’s ways to go;From mother tongue was taught man’s speech to know;So, for man’s making, childhood, boyhood, youth,Each he endowed in turn with deathless truth,Himself the type and pattern for each stageOf human growth. Oh! in what future ageShall we who, seeking that lost Pattern, roam,Find it again, and to that form come home?Ah, friends! this simple showing that ye seeOf Love at Nazareth, this is not He!’Tis but a thought, a fathering wish, a prayerThat with hearts knit we may come closelier there,Where He lived lowly. Lo, He by your sideLies hidden, a waiting guest, still multipliedBy man’s still growing needs,—with such intentHe made humanity His Sacrament;The flesh and blood, which here we beat and bruise,Is Christ’s. Ah, put it to some better use!Be members all with all! Hear what Love saith,And make your home with Him at Nazareth!
Since Love first looked on life with human eyes,Twixt him and us time like a curtain lies.Of all the years while He made life His ownWith dear familiar touch—how little’s known!The gospels of His Birth, the tale make plainThen two years till He died and rose again,Naught else remains to us of all, save whenHe, at Jerusalem, with learned menWas by His parents found, and taken thenceBack to far Nazareth. And by no senseOf mortal mind from where they now lie hidCan we recover the fair things He did,Growing to man’s estate, that He might dieFor man’s salvation; hidden there they lie,The days which mounted up to Calvary.
Since Love first looked on life with human eyes,
Twixt him and us time like a curtain lies.
Of all the years while He made life His own
With dear familiar touch—how little’s known!
The gospels of His Birth, the tale make plain
Then two years till He died and rose again,
Naught else remains to us of all, save when
He, at Jerusalem, with learned men
Was by His parents found, and taken thence
Back to far Nazareth. And by no sense
Of mortal mind from where they now lie hid
Can we recover the fair things He did,
Growing to man’s estate, that He might die
For man’s salvation; hidden there they lie,
The days which mounted up to Calvary.
Yet here on earth that lovely deed was done;Love in man’s form took life from wind and sun,Waked, slept, ate bread, and toiled, and without speed,Patient, made test of each frail weak human need;Found means on small frail feet men’s ways to go;From mother tongue was taught man’s speech to know;So, for man’s making, childhood, boyhood, youth,Each he endowed in turn with deathless truth,Himself the type and pattern for each stageOf human growth. Oh! in what future ageShall we who, seeking that lost Pattern, roam,Find it again, and to that form come home?
Yet here on earth that lovely deed was done;
Love in man’s form took life from wind and sun,
Waked, slept, ate bread, and toiled, and without speed,
Patient, made test of each frail weak human need;
Found means on small frail feet men’s ways to go;
From mother tongue was taught man’s speech to know;
So, for man’s making, childhood, boyhood, youth,
Each he endowed in turn with deathless truth,
Himself the type and pattern for each stage
Of human growth. Oh! in what future age
Shall we who, seeking that lost Pattern, roam,
Find it again, and to that form come home?
Ah, friends! this simple showing that ye seeOf Love at Nazareth, this is not He!’Tis but a thought, a fathering wish, a prayerThat with hearts knit we may come closelier there,Where He lived lowly. Lo, He by your sideLies hidden, a waiting guest, still multipliedBy man’s still growing needs,—with such intentHe made humanity His Sacrament;The flesh and blood, which here we beat and bruise,Is Christ’s. Ah, put it to some better use!Be members all with all! Hear what Love saith,And make your home with Him at Nazareth!
Ah, friends! this simple showing that ye see
Of Love at Nazareth, this is not He!
’Tis but a thought, a fathering wish, a prayer
That with hearts knit we may come closelier there,
Where He lived lowly. Lo, He by your side
Lies hidden, a waiting guest, still multiplied
By man’s still growing needs,—with such intent
He made humanity His Sacrament;
The flesh and blood, which here we beat and bruise,
Is Christ’s. Ah, put it to some better use!
Be members all with all! Hear what Love saith,
And make your home with Him at Nazareth!