Poems (Tynan)/The Nativity

by Katharine Tynan

For works with similar titles, see The Nativity.

MIRACLE PLAYS

THE NATIVITY

Scene I.—Shepherds on a hillside, watching their flocks by night.

First Shepherd.

The frost is crackling in the grass;
'Twere well the flock warm-housed was.
How merrily now the time would pass
 Were I by mine own fire.

Second Shepherd.

Ay, neighbour, sad the shepherd's lot.
Whether the wind be cold or not,
He must away from wife and cot,
 To frozen field and byre.

First Shepherd.

Where 's Jacob?

Second Shepherd.

Where 's Jacob? See! he cometh now
Yonder, over the wheatfield brow;
And in his arms he hath, I trow,
 A young lamb, newly born.

Let 's heap the fire; the wind brings snow;
And feed the little life that's low;
Lamb's life and babe's life flickering go
 In this gray hour ere morn.

Third Shepherd (entering, a lamb in his arms).

Brothers, a little lamb I bring,
A curled and soft and helpless thing;
Its mother died at birth-giving;
 And see the blood upon

The fleece, as though one marked it thus
For sacrifice most piteous.
There 's room enough for this with us,
 Beside my little son.

First Shepherd.

Brothers, the night grows still and fair.
What balmy warmth is in the air?
Look ye, whence comes that splendid Star,
 Travelling to Bethlehem?

Third Shepherd.

To-night some marvels we shall see.
Golden-clad folk went down by me,
All shimmering from the head to knee,
 And with a diadem.

Second Shepherd.

Peace now! For see above our hill
The heavens are opening wide, until
The golden glory bids us kneel
 And praise God in the night.

See, rows on rows of shining ones,
All chanting, in their silver tones,
Matins and Lauds and orisons,
 In one long golden flight!

The Angels (singing).

Gloria in Excelsis Deo,
Et in terra pax hominibus
Bonae voluntatis!

First Shepherd.

Lo, they are hushed! but flutes begin
A silver music, soft and thin.
In one long trail the stars move in
 And lean above the town.

'Tis the stars singing that we hear.
Like silver trumpets ringing clear.
How purely floats each silver sphere!
 We too will travel down.

All.
Come up, come up, black fleece and white.
Wether and ewe, and lamb so light,
And you, the wean was born to-night,
 Come, follow the Star's track!

It beckons us the way it goes;
And Tib, our dog, the creature knows:
He too, in bitter frosts and snows,
 Saw Gates of Heaven rolled back.
  [They gather up their belongings, and all go out.

Scene II.—The stable. Mary sitteth in the grass of the
manger, the Babe on her knee. Joseph kneeleth by her.
The Ox and the Ass mildly gaze upon her Son.

Mary.

Sweet Son, and is it thus you come
To such a poor, unworthy home?
Better than this was Mary's womb,
 Unworthy though it were.

Nine months have I desired you, sweet,
To kiss your prisoned hands and feet;
But never dreamt your face to greet
 In a sad stable, bare.

Sleep, little one, sleep sweet, mine own!
Mother shall rock her dearest one.
To-night He is her own, her Son,
 Whatever the years bring.

In Nazareth she hath laid by
Great store of baby napery,
With lavender sweet, and rosemary,
 All for her Baby King.

Joseph.

Mary, give me His feet to kiss.
Alack, that in such place as this
The Child is born, Whom on my knees
 Most humbly I adore.

Thou knowest how through this cold-heart town,
Weary I travelled up and down,
Praying a shelter for mine own,
 All in her need so sore.

There was no woman, sweet, to come
And take thy hand, and lead thee home,
And find the hours not wearisome,
 To watch by thee till morn;

And with a woman's art to soothe
The Holy Babe, and wash and clothe.
Great glory they have lost, in truth,
 By their cold hearts of scorn.

Mary.

Come hither, little ox and ass,
That gave my Son your scented grass;
His hands shall o'er your foreheads pass
 In love and thanksgiving.

What would we do, both He and I,
Had ye the world's cold cruelty,
Shelter and cradle to deny
 To this most Holy Thing?
[The Ass and the Ox kneel down.

Now bless them, little Baby Son,
Thy wrath for their oppression;
Thy blessing where there 's kindness done
 To these who gave Thee bed.

Yea, blessed these so wistful-eyed
That watched thy bed of birth beside,
And heard Thee when Thy dear voice cried,
 And saw Thee clothed and fed.

O little ass and ox, in truth
Great glory shall accrue to both,
For when the cold world lay in sloth
 Ye kept the watch with joy;

And by your breath the frosts were thawed,
Your kind brown eyes saw and were awed;
King of the world, the angels' God,
 And mine own new-born Boy.

Joseph.

Now, by the golden light of stars,
And the great crown each angel wears,
I see a throng of wayfarers.
 Coming across the moor

Are shepherd men, and men like kings;
And every one his present brings;
The sheep, the shepherds' shepherdings,
 And dog, are at our door.
[Kings and Shepherds enter and kneel.

Melchior.

We are three kings from farthest Ind,
Travelled these many weeks to find
The greatest King of all mankind.
 And since the Star hath shown

That this most precious Babe is He,
We worship Him on bended knee,
With silk and spice of Araby,
 And gold to build His throne.

I, Melchior am, old beyond man,
Ages ago my reign began;
Now to this Babe of scarce a span
 I kneel, and kiss His feet.

Dear King, Thou sweet and tender One,
Linen I bring Thee finely spun,
And cloth of gold for Mary's Son,
 To be His garb unmeet.

Caspar.

Widowed of love, I frozen-eyed,
Since the black grave had snatched my bride,
Watching one night pavilions wide
 Of stars in a dark field,

Saw one Star ruddier than a rose;
And by my palace casement close
Heard a great voice: The way it goes
 Follow: thy wounds are healed.

Yea, we have followed patiently.
Thou gentle Babe, now take from me
Sendal and spice from oversea,
 And frankincense and myrrh.

And I, too, kiss Thy tender feet,
Where the red blood doth pulse and beat,
Making a stain both dark and sweet,
 As though a nail went there.

Balthazar.
I young, with all the world before,
Glory, and love, and power in store,
Kneeling most humbly, I adore
 The Babe in swaddling clothes.

The Star to me sang clear how was,
Here in the manger and the grass,
A King whose greatness did surpass
 All that a mortal knows.

Sweet little Child, the gold I bring
Is an unworthy offering.
But would that for my kingliest King
 A palace I might build.

With hall, and tower, and shining stair
All of the gold and ivory fair,
And million windows in the air
 That the late sunsets gild.

First Shepherd.

Hail Thou, Whom the Star heralded,
Comely and tender in Thy bed!
Lady, I bring to His Godhead,
 Being but a little Child,

A bunch of cherries, smooth and ripe,
Likewise a shepherd's oaten pipe.
He laughs, whilst thou the tears dost wipe,
 To see my cherries wild.

Second Shepherd.

Hail, Sovereign Saviour, Who hast sought
Us, by Thy seeking brought to naught!
Wilt take a little bird I caught,
 That hath a tuneful throat?

Sweetest of sweetings, happy this
That thou shouldst greet it with a kiss,
And in Thy sweet hand make its bliss,
 And chirrup to its note.

Third Shepherd.

Hail, dearest dear, full of Godhead,
Be with me in mine utmost need!
Alack, to see Thee in such weed,
 Of pleasant things forlorn!

Behold I bring thee but a ball,
The which a child finds good withal.
Hail, Holy King, asleep in stall,
 Of Whom the world hath scorn!

Mary.

Kind gentlefolk, who came to seek
My little Son, new-born and weak;
I thank you, since He cannot speak,
 And lift His hand to bless.

At in-going and out-coming
And on your homeward wayfaring,
And wife and wean and everything
 Ye hold in tenderness.

Be free from woe where'er ye go,
Kind gentlefolk, that honour so
The Babe that came in frost and snow.
 He bids ye go in peace.

To kings and kindly shepherd men,
And dog, and sheep that turn again,
Of His sweet countenance full fain,
 Be health and full increase.

The Angels (singing).

Laudamus te, benedicimus te, adoramus te,
Glorificamus te. Gratias agimus tibi
Propter magnam gloriam tuan.