Saint Kirill!  How now you must be pleased
That your Schtupkin liberates the streets of Mariupol.
Why, just yesterday our dear Theotokos had breathed
In sweet dormition, children above playing
As had our Saviour's hands and feet once played—
Yet unbound, unpierced, freeing—
Bullets not yet through their teeth, not yet
Our Holy Families fled to Poland, when the only cries heard
Were from kids preoccupied by jump rope and hide-and-seek,
And from their mothers beckoning, "Come home! It's time! Їсти!"

How was it on the BBC, then, that we saw you			
Blessing Russian dolls and toy soldiers,
Those armies donning Kevlar vests,
In the name of the V, and of the Z, and of the X?
No! Yours not Father, Christ, nor Holy Ghost—
Let alone that righteousness cause on Earth we boast:
One cannot in the same breath reconcile and be cause of grief!
Though (if I may speak honestly, brother)
Neither do my rhymes these days bring much relief.

So courage, Kirill! lest the children form a word for thee.
Our kind advice: speak! Pray, name this War for what She is
Or Time will mark you—less than lowly, less than poor—
Your mother's shame in silence but a WWh

. . .

1.
Rulers of the world, whose actions shook the ancient soils of Kyiv:
recall that Christ, born of oppression and of poverty,
once took upon Himself the burden and the weight of every soul.

2.
Star of David, shone in darkness: be Your gentleness our might;
we, Your lasting people, stand aright; we are not overcome.
With Your saints—all faithful servants—Lord of Hosts, in Christ we pray.

A CHILD is born; God granted us a king.
Wisemen are led to him from lands afar,
Who fell down to adore the one
	Who in a manger lies,
	Yet reigns o’er all the earth
And shines e’er brighter than the stars.

Yet, Herod, of this king you are afraid.
To save your kingdom you would kill this child.
Had you but faith enough to stay
	Your hand—had you but peace
	To give—you would win life
And all the earth, win him with tenderness.

Why are you fearful of this crown?
The child does not come to strip your name,
But only turn towards that light
	And rout from shrouded hearts
	A blinded self in rage,
Rout He who takes and proffers only pain.

The Innocents their glory would you deign,
As try you cut from out the womb in strife
With unrestrainèd hands, in blood—
	So many mothers’ cries,
	So many fathers’ sobs.
Yet you accomplish not this Life.

Your throne is threatened by that grace.—So small
This Love, and yet so great that heart which sees;
When looking on his mother’s face
	He does not grieve your will;
	Once freed the soul from chains
He shares her immortality.

The children die for Christ, though need not pray;
Their parents’ little death—unbloodied Word—
The babe unable yet to speak
	Finds witness of himself,
	Whose flesh with theirs now shrives
His kingdom to a coming age.

Then see, my children, how our God has borne
Deliverance from sin—the world’s bond—
Salvation by the Saviour’s own;
	How, Herod, in your din,
	Blind fashioned and appalled,
In ignorance you pay him homage.

Do we not know how great the gift of grace
It is that’s here!  and to what merit owe
The children to this goodly prize?—
	Who cannot speak, yet bear
	Their witness to this Prince,
Who cannot use their limbs to shield, or fight,
Yet show to us the palm of victory.

TAKE thought with me, redeemèd man.
   Consider now what great and worthy deed
It is that Christ has done,
	Who hangs upon the cross for you;
   His cross raising to life the dead,
While at his passing heav’n and earth are plunged,—
Angels, all faithful,—into mourning,
	Where holy veil within the temple tears in two
And boulders split asunder.

It was decreed by God’s right hand,
   Permitted that a soldier, hard of heart,
Must pierce his sacred side,
	And so, with lance, would testify
   And tell the truth that Christ imparts.
This done that all his faithful Church might see
And form belief from blood and water mixed;
	So as he slept the sleep of death, and on cross died,
Our scripture formed and was fulfilled:

They look on him whom they have pierced.
   The price of our salvation but the two
Together mixed as one,
	Flowing from secret fountainhead,
   As heart creates ex nihilo,
From nothingness, the stream that’s made for you:
The power of the Church, her sacraments,—
	Her grace conferred on those her living stead,
A living water welling up for you.

In everlasting life, then, my belovèd, rise!
   Keep Christ! that you may imitate that dove
Which hollows its abode,—
	Keeping watch its opening above,
   E’er vigilant to dwell in love,—
To hide your little ones and give them food,
But that which angels eat, but they this fruit;
	That your chaste love may in them grow,
And honour them, and flourish them.

The Spirit flows from in-drawn well,
   Her fountain from the lips of Paradise;—
And dwells your saviour in,
	His Word but Eden’s centre,
   Dividing into four that Life,
In each direction rivers, hearts devout
O’er generous, profusing,
	The whole earth watered, making fertile they,
He Who God is, of your own children.

Run eager with desire to see,—
   To drink, to taste, this source of life and light.
All you who to His Word have vowed,
	Come now, whoever you may be.—Cry
   Out to him with all your might.
“O Beauty indescript” come see!
O God Most High of purest radiance!
	Life-giving Life, the source of every life!
Life-giving Light! Life-giving Word!

Preserver of the manifold,
   In everlasting splendour of the myriad flames,
You shone from out your throne,
	Divinity from dawn of time!
   Eternal, inaccessible,—your Name,—
Though fountain flowing sweet and pure,
Unseen by mortal eye your hidden spring.
	No one can plumb your depths,
none survey your boundaries,—though try.

No one your breath can span,
   No one profane your purity,—though love;
A lover for his love would himself die
	For loss of heart of it,
	For never having tried.
But from Whom flows that blessèd font,
   Become for us a City of God,
We are made to cry with joy and gladness
   Hymns in praise of you,
For we now know that with you is the source of life,
   And only in your light we see.

A SILENCE falls upon the earth today,
   A pall both strange and still.
	The whole earth vigil keeps, for he,
   The King, our Christ within,
	Within his mother’s womb, descends;
And trembles She, the earth, and stills herself
   As dormant in the flesh—
	Speechless, spent the Word of God;
   Yet, in his next breath ready,
	Ready to raise up all souls
Who ever slept from since the world began.
   Conceived and taken flesh,
	God died; and hell, hell too had cried—
   Silenced in and fearful
	Of the day that’s now upon him.

Christ has gone to search for our first parent,
   As shepherd for lost sheep.
	How great is his desire to see;
   How far in darkness reached
	Those captives in death’s shadow.
At farthest reach he finds Adam and Eve.—
   He is the son of Eve;
	He is their God who sets them free,
   Bearing the cross to them,
	The weapon of his victory.
Flooded by light, the blind are made to see,
   The mute are given speech,
	And faithless hearts in him believe;
   With peace to those who grieve
	The first created man looked on.

Adam gasped with breath, once shaken from his rest;
   He struck his breast in fright
	And cried, cried out to everyone,
   “My Lord be with you all!”
	“And with your spirit,” answered Christ.
And taking Adam’s hand, lifting that pall,
   And raising Adam up,
	And face to face, in grace, Christ prayed:
   “Awake, O sleeper, Rise!—
	Rise from the dead.  Behold my light!”
I am your God and for your sake become
   Your son, in spirit one.
	For love of you and your own flesh,
   By this love now command:
	From darkness rise!  Be free from sin!

I order you, O sleeper, to awake.
   You were not made to be
	A prisoner in hell.—Then rise!
   Rise from the dead, for I,—
	I am life of the dead.  Then rise,
Work of my hands, you who were made,
   An image of myself,
	Destined for me; now leave this place
   With me, and I in you.
	Together we are unity,
And cannot sep’rate flesh and spirit be,
   But One with me in Person Three.
	For your sake, I your God, became
   Your son; I Lord of you,
	Yet made a slave.

I whose abode rests above the heavens
   Descended to the earth,
	Yes, beneath the earth descended even.
   My form is now complete—
	For your sake, for the sake of man.
Yes, I became a servant without help
   And free among the dead,
	For you, your kith, who Eden left.
   I was betrayed by them
	And in the garden nailed to sin.
See on my face the spittle I received
   In order to give back.
	I now restore that life once breathed,
   My breath in you anew.
	See now the marks that I received.

These blows are testament to image warped
   By men who strike at grief;
	Upon my back their scourging.—See
   What I endured to free
	From kin the burden of that sin.
Look up, my brother, from that weight within.
   See on my hands the wounds
	Nailed firmly to a tree, for you,—
   For you who once stretched out
	Your hand and plucked indignity,
And placed your heart upon your mind—that tree.
   So on a cross I slept;
	And sword pierced side for you who slept
   In paradise to know
	What different home from Eve you took.

My side has healed the pain in yours, your rib;
   And rest in me shall rouse
	You from that sleep in hell you bear;
   The sword that pierced my side
	Now sheathes the sword that guarded you.
Rise up then, leave this place.  Open the gates!
   And be unfree no more.
	No flaming sword shall keep you barred
   From now your Prize;
	Though earthen home I’ll not restore,
But set a seat for you in Heaven’s own.
   Now to that throne ascend.
	I warned of you that tree, forbade
   To eat of it; though you
	Mistook the symbol for the life.

But see, I who am life am now with you;
   And cherubim once set
	To guard you as a slave bereft,
   I now make honour you;
	For you as God are now as they.
Your throne, its bearers eagerly await
   The bridal chamber,—soon
	Be you adorned, your banquet room,
   Eternal dwelling place,
	And treasure of all treasures.
Open be your goodly name in love!
   Open my mansion and
   Open my wonders of!
   As from this new day’s dawn
	My eyes do see
The way prepared for you for all eternity.

I

REMEMBER, O most gracious Mother,
never was it known
that any child
who sought your aid,
who begged your strength
or asked a place be set for them
to show up at your table,
ever would be turned away
or left unheard,
unbrothered and forlorn.

With confidence this breath I take.—
Take me as did you Christ, your babe,
forsaking all, unto your breast;
and beat your heart into my chest
lest my love fail;
for I am weak
and fearful of the dolour
of this cross.
Unknowingly, we weep,
yet taste His resurrection.

Blessèd Mother, pray for us.
Amen.


II

MY Mother and my Sister—Holy You:
How now is shared this cross with us?—
for we who call ourselves His friend are lost;
and though that Rock,
this Church we hold,
we sink beneath the tumult of the sea.
My legs are weak
and my heart wearied,
fearful of the vigil that you keep.

My tongue is trepid at this Word,
for I myself have not the strength
to speak that Name
of Him before me,
let alone to shoulder half His grief.
And yet, you bear this burden all,
O Lover and Belovèd of this Tree,
with unbegotten Love—Most Holy Three.

Take hold of us!
Amen.


III

HOW will you hold me
when I'm lowered from the cross,
when fatherless and bare I lay?

How will you wash me,
blood from brow and sweat away?—
my life and limbs and passion robbed,

my friends betraying;
here a thief, his praises sung,
there another his God mocking.

How will you bandage
all this world's suffering?—
my palms, my feet, my crown, my side.

Or yet my passage
from this tomb to Paradise—
how will you pay—if not for Her

with heart so tender?
O refuge! Love surrender!
and in my test remember me.

REMEMBER ME.
AMEN. AMEN. AMEN.

1.
THOUGH I know well
And in my past deserve
To be abandoned by my God,
Bereft of trust or mercy lent,

His grace and strength
In me yet sounds;
Despite the loss of land and life,
I would lose all to save myself.

For He has given me a peace of mind
To look on you without regret;
And giving thus takes nothing
But my liberty, though spent.


2.
So great a good His Majesty
Bestowed on me abundantly;
So greater my reward that naught
Are these my bars.

By merit of this passionfruit,
Surpassing all I thought I knew,
I join my all to His reward
So bounteous and spiritual.

What weight of purgatory freed,
That pain, I thought, is now relieved;
So small our suffering on earth,
As heavenly rewards increase.


3.
Then, sweet daughter, do not doubt
Or fear you in my weakening;
Do you remember Peter sinking fast
Beneath the sea?

Holy Hand then tumult be
When vigil you keep over me;
So I shall call upon my Christ
To help me in this hour.

In Him I trust as in my king
That I’ll not perish for my faults,
But recommit in service, save all praise,
For justice and good faith.


4.
Though I know well, my dearest Meg,
What tender pity my soul takes,
In refuge of these letters,
Let us pray.

   (Though I know well)
   I’ll mind you not my troubles.
   (Though I know well)
   My love, a kiss for thee.
   (Though I know well)
   The hour grows upon us.
   (Though I know well)
   Both king and servant least.

   (Though I know well)
   For you, my cherished daughter.
   (Though I know well)
   In Him my soul is free.

LOOK on! Look on and take my hand;
For here God gives to each a promised land,
Each sweetest wing, each rill
    both pleasant and more pleasanter
To every eye that sees; my tongue, pray God, let me
To tease the Truth from some small thing
So as to praise, not me, but You—
Your glory, power and wonder.

Breath of very breath, let us
Make whole our tongues; make right our reason—
Being, Will, and Understanding one,
    as every heart itself must prove,
When moved to dwell within the season of your love.
Our nature is a kindling when the more we sing
Her praises; shadowed tongues on mouths burned bright.
Be majesty, our friend, and light.

Thus take of Her, dear folk,
My words.—The Word will know, but not for me;
For my own being attests: you cannot split
    a branch from off that Tree
Of Life—no more than can one's suffering be split
From off that Rood; try burn them, if you would,
And offer them upon the pyre of your sin.
Vainglory!—You yourselves misunderstood.

So prized, will every fruit mature
Upon its tree; so too each heart, each tongue,
And skin of every greening thing which knows
    God's promise more than we
Who cleave ourselves apart from our divine intent.
O! for what love God makes each one—with purpose.
God's the eye that witnesses, and His
The very eye with which we see.

What mother for her children poor—
Unclothed, unschooled, and indigent—would look on them
And action not to move herself, if not to great,
    at least to some small selflessness?
Tho' try ignore her grief! And boast to father not some love!
For we, in nature, cannot help but nobler be, and utter
In our hearts Her majesty, so loosed
The grip of sin on us—when loved.

Then pray, unfettered each, an education:
Schools lettered from the Word and not division; folly, pray,
Be 'round our necks, a commonwealth and access—
    not possession.
Pray, God, Thee, to hold our nature so,
    and grip it tight—to breathe
As fish within Your waters might,
    the Who and What of them.
But O! we are not free, but chained,
    Dear children of Rimini.

PRAISE God for ev'ry dappled skin, for speckled trout.
Upon His name arise their thousand eyes, their surfacing,
Whose glittered hymn to spotted bass—
    scaled water, gill and fin—
Behold your ev'ry ripple's ev'ry wave on deep within,
That we, at dawn, our hearts amiss, might now blisskiss
the feathered fly of Earth's horizon.
			Perched mouths all, an uttering,
Spawn dappled fires, cries alight at this, long shook,
Limned brook of our renaissance.
			 Rainbows crown the sky whilst we,
We crow from shore—praise God!—look on and tremble
    at the hatch
Who rests in awe of our Creator,
                                 minnows who
In smallness swam a vast expanse grown
    from the dark of them;
While salmon call to them—poke, red crest, up the falls,
    and die—for them,
Roe scored and sounded now as once were teeming—
    births as laden ships
Acrest—fresh Deity, its meat—eternally reborn.
To Thee the feted fisher bends the knee and sings his place—
Sings rill and brook as browns his way, and mirrors in the
    water's grace—
Finds face of his beginning—wetlands, bog, and fen—
The foot of mountains that e'er look upon the sea.
                          Their mountains' song
Of our impassibility: impermanence and grief.—In want of 
    nothing.
Tho' they testify, and offer thanks, our daily catch:
Our hearts they long, and on our neighbours
    mark our friendship.

Pray we, Lord, this Fish to greet; Pray we, God,
    our Name to keep.

Pray that from our callings, be they brief—
Our dawns and passings—
That our life be spent unchained—
In graciousness, in praise with lack of plaint.

So call we all Thy fishes, small and great!
Come to this shore and show what mercies, more on more,
God has in wait for those who honour all Creation.

FAR down in his dreams
And pulled from the waters—
A mystical story of a boy and his father:

Placed just out of reach
Of the boy’s tiny hands
Was a rod and a hook, letters written in sand.

The boy with a dream
And the father a calling,
There threw in the brook to the fish who lay sleeping

The letter that made him
And first wet the tongue
Of the boy and the father, their Spirit both One.

“Ho-hey you!  Ho-hey me!”
“Ho-hey all living things!”
And the Ev-er-y Name that springs from the brook.

“Ho-hey me!  Ho-hey you!”
“Ho-hey every-thing!”
And unto the blessing of angels and kings.

*   *   *

High in the mountains
And close to the sky,
The hook hit the water, his first dotted “i”.

He threw his first letter
And there sat to dwell
For a time where the sky and the waters do tell

Of a Day before Days
And a Dawn before Dawn
Where boys were the fishers of fatherhood things,

Of rainbows and dewdrops
And colours of scale,
And the hearts and the eyes and the minds
    who hath made them.

“Ho-hey you!  Ho-hey me!”
“Ho-hey all living things!”
And the Ev-er-y Name that springs from the brook.

“Ho-hey me!  Ho-hey you!”
“Ho-hey every-thing!”
And unto the blessing of angels and kings.

*   *   *

Then leapt from the brook,
As Word leaps from silence—
The Fish who doth glitter and shimmer and shineth

And sang forth his song,
As sings forth a shining,
Go thither and hither with every good tiding!

The boy did not catch him,
His Father who silenced,
Or Fish which leapt letter, now hooked from the dawning,

But there in his arms
Slept still as the night
The boy in the arms of the Spirit pulled tight.

“Ho hey you!  Ho hey me!”
“Ho hey all living things!”
And the Ev-er-y Name that springs from the brook.

“Ho-hey me!  Ho-hey you!”
“Ho-hey every-thing!”
And unto the blessing of angels and kings.

MY soul, my heart is drawn;
What bread of heaven finds the tongue
When fear is calmed.

Your love is my delight;
Though Light of Lights we cannot see
But for the dawn.

    Refrain (call):
    Then call to me and I will come
    To save a people now my own;

    Refrain (response):
    Your face we shall behold on high,
    Leading us home.


Our God, your pleasures be,
As sheep but by the air they breathe
From meadows green.

A child their parents’ word,
Awaiting eagerly their place
Upon the knee.

    Refrain (call and response)

Insatiable the draught
Of justice and of righteousness,
Eternal fruit.

And Lo! the blessèd prize.
When raised upon our greatest hope,
Your spirit cries!

    Refrain (call and response)

Epode A
DEARLY beloved, Christ is born!
Let us rejoice that sadness hath no foot in life
And fear of death no grip on us.

For Jesse's shoot in gladness springs,
Sets root in us where once our hearts grew only strife.
Our Saviour comes to us today!

	Strophe A
	O treasure kissed! Eternal joy!
	Who placed upon our wounds such healing balm; we pray,
	Press lips upon the milk of our humanity.

	Antistrophe A
	Let fan the air your angels' wings
	And beat our hearts as once did ring
	Glad tidings from a house rebuilt, where once was ruin.

Epode B
All saints, rise up! We honour you;
In victory, you wave your palms, our world to know
The Friend that we are made in Him.
				
Our works together long let be,
His Spirit come like fire—crowned and glorying—
When mattins fill our mouths with praise.

	Strophe B
	From David's house, so ours His flesh—
	How prized and blessed, our God, for ages come.  Attest!
	He is the one Who bridges us to Word divine.

	Antistrophe B
	Then come to us!  Form us in Thee!
	Graft branch on branch till we belong—
	Not overcome, but spanned in freedom, whole and strong.

Epode C
Glory!  Glory!  Glory be!
To God on high Who reigns in Peace,
Of Mary born the Child of Wonder!
     Praise the Lord,
     Tho' low His Mother!

     Brilliantly
     On magi grow
Whose hearts hold true before this light.
Let kindness now become our sight—
With good and honest Wisdom.

	Strophe C
	Gifts we bear.  Quietness befalls.  And yet, but O!
	Hands shake.  Knees weaken.  I bend low
	Amongst the animals, then fall once Love is spoken.

	Antistrophe C
	That we see Mary, let us graft our souls to Hers—
	Whilst all the earth proclaims His name—
	Overjoyed in all refrain:
   	     Gloria—forevermore—in excelsis!
	     Christ is born!

LORD, shed upon our darkened souls
The brilliant light of Wisdom,
That we might shine resplendently,
Renewed in faith, renewed in mission.

How sunrise marks the hour for us
Who trod—bleared, smeared and spent in toil—
Tho’ in our souls preparing fast
A dwelling everlasting.

O grant that we may come to know
The risen life and nothing but;
And let us not distracted be
By what delights are offered thus.

Our unremitting zeal for life
Let mark our flesh, let run our sweat,
Until at dusk we’re measured by
That vigil lamp we keep for You.

Your sacrament we dare embrace,
Your e’er redeeming body take,
Which makes us worthy of your hope,
Esteemed in love, made whole by grace.

For hidden was your Word in us,
In all things spiritual renewed,
Which ever since baptism grew,
The memory that made us whole:

Your table set, your richness spread—
The water mixed, the wine, the bread—
Which seemed only to multiply
And treasured us, and made us friends.

How beautiful and bounteous
The feast that you had laid for us—
A mother’s and a father’s love,
Their mortal immortality.

So you, the Child and Saviour of
Our hands, our feet which labour on,
Through very light of very light,
Held quick to You, our precious God;

We look on you as on ourselves
To forge our path and form our way,
To walk not in the world as lost,
But found in prayer, the mirrored day.

Sweetness of Life, cleanse us;
Waters of Life, grant us that we be made
To walk as Moses walked on mountain high,
To hold this vision fast and in You see.

MY sight so small, as dust my heart,
So thin a thing as crust.  But then again,
That’s me—tip-toed, misunderstood,
Ever reaching up—up higher out of darkness,
Just as You had risen, up from death to life—
To see! That’s me, a child peeking
On all fours, then clamouring on two
From floor to catch a glimpse, perhaps,
A smidgeon more what richness lay
Atop and spread across Your table.

The blessing (yet, yet not) I cannot sing,
My eyes too weak, my throat too green.
Were they to turn, my eyes, toward Your sun,
They’d burn and bear it not for any time.
O on splendour do you dine! Though rind,
That outer husk of Truth falls at my feet;
I chew on it, and teethe, and wean ‘til feet
Grow strong; and from your grist grows me
to serve your plenty. Little griefs, then, I will bear,
though small a thing, my progress day by day.

For all seems slow (so, too, is knowledge,
Sluggish, not quite whole). Be it but rind,
Or be it husk, I’ll claim what joy divine I can
Knowing full well that none can hold Your all—
Nor dusk your light, nor earth your leaven.
Grow now in me Heaven—deeper then,
if wider when—that You, Your Life, would send
Upon my tongue—and on my lips, and in my heart
Such hope—my vessel full, e’er my love lit.
Soul hunger, body thirst, whole being yearn for it!

Until I’m counted at your side let me, this skin
To stretch—in faith abide—to hold within
And set alight, Your Word afoot Your Table wide:
Eyes feasted among friends, my Lord its Head,—
How sweet Your cup, how blessed Your bread.

1.
ON splendour do we dine,
Our richness spread across Your table.

Claim we now this joy divine,
Knowing that none can hold Your all
Nor earth Your leaven.

Grow in us Your heaven—You,
O Lord, upon our outstretched tongues.


2.
In friendship we abide,
So faithfully Your Word imparted.

Sated soul and feasted eye—
How sweet the cup that reconciles.
O wondrous marvel!

Take your seat; let love arise.
Now blessed this bread, our goodly prize.

Strophe
O VIRGIN born! who You yourself
Had bore a son, and yet remained
Untouched, in mystery unstained!

With knowledge of His total good,
We deign to ask that pleasure could,
O Mother, in your holy faith
Bring us His e’er surpassing love.

Stand aright, then!  People to your feet!
Praise Her glory, girth replete!
With joy and steadfast lips draw close,
Life-giving waters granting those
A cause to praise Your majesty!

Epode A
Christ’s birth, not of necessity,
But sign inherently divine,
Expression of omnipotence,
A sacrament of piety,

Who lowered and poured out for us
His sacred heart that we might take
His form—from clay and ash—now ours,
A body hungered for that Goal.

Epode B
Redeemed are those who bear His Name,
Who search His being, who think on Him,
A creature to a God enfleshed
Who deigned take our mortality.
 
O Child, in You our dignity!
Hold fast to us and in us be,
And more on more reflect that Life
Of Whom, in Her, our nature sings.

Epode C
Let us to all Your blessings bring— 
But O! our nature and our strife!
That we abase ourselves in grief,
Tho’ precious are we in Her sight.

We ask the how but not the why,
Or for what end our faith will seek,
Not yet this world our abode—
Restored to all that’s just and good.

Antistrophe
In Her—a body to behold!
For us Your light dispelled the gloom
That day She saved us from our doom;

And darkness fled when heaven-bound,
When trumpets opened—Hear them sound!—
And shook the sun—blood red, Her prize:
Christ born—with stars atop, and crown!

From you to yours and ever thus,
Tho’ bound by flesh, returned to dust:
Take heart, take heart then! O for Love!
Each woman, child, and every man—
That every mother’s goodly span.

Exodos
We strike the chorus ever sung—
Adorned the world, raised the dead—
We strike the chorus ever rung,
O very God, whose hearts You mend!

SHOW me yourself in truth,
Then you shall see my God—
Eyes of my soul, ears of my heart!
My burnished mirror let me clean.

Ineffable and indescribable,
Incomprehensible Your glory!
Be as that pomegranate seed—
Indwelling One in Three—

Yet, Who beyond my rind and flesh,
This palm of God I cannot see;
For who can know Your handiwork—
Enclosing all, beholding me?

AWAKE from your dullness! Arise from your sleep!
My children, do not merely walk but leap,
As from the shore of silence to the edge of speech.
The path is long; the way is deep.

See how every creature mirrors the Divine,
Each soul’s music in the heaven of all things.
Then sing! For glistening inside you is a world:
We are a vessel; so perfected are God’s works in us.

I am the vast expanse of Love no heart can hold.
His marvels like a chord: I am the harp and God the kindness.
Ablaze are we, a spark beheld by God,
A living vessel in whom Life embarks.

Ever-giving Life: O wonderous, wakened heart—
The glistened, verdant Word arousing us
From ancient dream—Life manifest in every thing.
Our whole creation is a song in praise and awe.

Glance at the sun! Gaze upon the stars!
Without them we cannot survive; and thus am I:
A feather on the breath of God—so small, yet born,
Of voice our own, of our own light.

Awake! Aright! Now let us make the world a home.

Let all the earth rejoice!
Give every host in heaven voice!
Of all the saints we sing,
For the companionship we bring;
As by their triumphs do we crown
The Holy Church, Her suffered breast our own,
Whose confession, braver in its passion,
We proclaim as brighter for their honour;
For while the battle grew on them,
Their glory now is won.

In martyrdom they live,
Despite the torments heaped on them.
Fearing not the test,
They taught our Church with words that bled,
Choosing death upon affliction,
Who, long-suffered, all the more were strengthened;
Neither by force, but kind in every plight,
With one and equal ardour to the fight,
Inspiring masses to believe:
The slave in Christ is free.

O blesséd Mother Church,
Adorned by all triumphantly!
Inviolate and pure,
Our God Who condescended us!
Our life redeemed, that none shall want;
Endeavour then, belovéd, for your prize:
You unbloodied, chaste or else consanguine;
Crowns, snow white, or purple for your passion.
In heaven, peace and war has each
A flower for your crown.

Ineffable, unbound!
How good the labours of our God,
Who has revealed to us:
How lesser is our life, tho’ pained,
Should we but lose eternity
Or turn the cheek on our humanity.
Then have our witness fly from out the dark,
Where we behold so beauteous a spark.
O gentle light of holiness:
The heart that’s true to life!

How joyous is the breast—
That heaven sings, returned from flight!—
When happily, on high,
Brings low the conquered enemy;
And with triumphant servants come,
Who rise above all past events;
So shall we enter that eternal door
Doubling our glory from their humble might,
Young in their multitude of faith,
At peace and ne’er in strife.

But then, o’er all behold:
The Being in Whose formless Form
Gives rise to companies—
Of angels and archangels, thrones,
Dominions, principalities,
And powers—their enjoyment in the watch
Of all celestial virtues—who console
The squadron of the saints, adorned with stars—
Patriarchs, apostles, virgins—
All with wreaths of beauty.

What soul shall judge the world
Except the one condemned by it?—
The martyrs’ robes bedecked,
Their diadems of victory.
But of the King no words can speak,
Amid their beauty and magnificence;
His purity surpassing every art,
For greater is He than we can conceive.
Greater than all saints in glory
Is the countenance of Christ!

But to attain such height,
It were worthwhile to suffer all,
Some torment every day—
Hell itself but for a season—
Were Christ near us—in us, of us—
And here joined to the number of the saints,
To feel him a friend in righteousness;
And spread such gladness over all the earth,
When every face shines as the sun,
Each rendered their reward.

And of their works now seen
In heaven as it is on earth,
The Lord shall count His own,
Each order of a people born,
Then receive them to His kingdom,
Changing things temporal for eternal;
But for a little labor, we are made
To sit on heavenly thrones—the promise
That the Son will introduce us
As His Father's own.

Pray, God, be all in all.
Bestow on us with much delight
What You had promised us:
An immortality to each,
As You redeem us by Your blood,
Quickened and poured out for us—such Love!—
Restoring us to Paradise at once;
And opening that kingdom here on earth,
With every faith that’s right and just,
And not some country far.

Then ours as their eyes see,
As children in His full esteem.
Hasten them! Run to them!
That we salute our countrymen
And all the dearest multitudes
Expecting us, a mighty crowd of kin:
Parents, brothers, sisters, running for us;
Long our path until we come to see as they.
Be filled with all felicity!
Be filled with every grace!

Yes, eagerly make haste!
For soon we’ll have a table set,
So covetous this home,
That we should have Him as our Guide,
Who in this journey is the Way:
The Author of Salvation, Prince of Life;
Giver of Gladness, Payer of the Price;
With God Who lives and reigns, His Father’s friend;
One with the Holy Paraclete,
Always and now. Amen.

R:	FOR Thee, O God, let hearts be glad. Amen.

V:	Be hunters and be herders ye of all refrain,
 	   through glen and field where sorrows cannot grow.

V:	Be tidings on the speechless act, its perfect loam;
	   fruitful be thy start, each thy beginning.

V:	Measure not the song whose shame hath overcome,
  	   Nōr bārs bē but open sky to reach upon.

V:	Be canticles of praise whose candour weaves a home,
   	   filled with wonder, broad in all your cares.

V:	Be graced and gentle as the swallow at first light
  	   who knows not name, yet understands her call.

V:	Let flame and glory be Her wing, be Song our night;
   	   for love and longing come within a dream.

V:	Be awning and awakening, thy heart and soul;
	    count as infinite thy psalms, a clutch and brood.

V:	Holy be the house we build; musics be our Body filled,
  	   though fragile is the corpus and the shell containing.

V:	Be still, my soul, thine art resounding;
       for Thy Tongue let hearts be glad. Amen. Amen.

(Final)
R:	For Thee, O God, let hearts be glad. Amen.