The Gray Brethren | Page 7

poor, or stupid, or lowly; it was the simple shepherds who saw Him
first. We are none of us too great, or learned, or rich; it was the three
wise kings who came next and offered gifts. We are none of us too
young; it was little children who first laid down their lives for Him; or
too old, for Simeon saw and recognised Him. There is only one thing
against most of us--we are too proud.
"My brethren, 'let us now go even to Bethlehem, and face this thing
which is come to pass, which the LORD hath made known unto us.'"
The lights were out in the church when the Recluse came to fetch the
Child. She was still kneeling by the creche, keeping watch with the
wonderful figures of fire and mist.
"Was THIS a dream or the other?" said the Child.
"Neither," said the Recluse, and he blessed her in the moonlit dark.
The air was full of wonderful sound, voices and song, and the cry of the
bells.

The Manifestation

God said; "Let there be light"; and in the East A star rose flaming from
night's purple sea - The star of Truth, the star of Joy, the star Seen by
the prophets down the lonely years; Set for a light to show the Perfect
Way; Set for a sign that wayfarers might find; Set for a seal to mark the
Godhead's home. And three Kings in their palaces afar, Who waited
ardently for promised things, Beheld, and read aright. Straightway the
road Was hot with pad of camel, horse's hoof, While night was quick as
day with spurring men And light with flaring torch. "Haste, haste!" they
cried, "We seek the King, the King! for in the East His star's alight."
BETHLEHEM
The Angels
Soft and slow, soft and slow, With angels' wings of fire and snow, To
rock Him gently to and fro. Fire to stay the chill at night, Snow to cool
the noonday bright; And overhead His star's alight.
Pale and sweet, pale and sweet, Maid Mary keeps her vigil meet, While
Joseph waits with patient feet. Mary's love for soft embrace, Joseph's
strength to guard the place. Lo! from the East Kings ride apace.
Gold and myrrh, gold and myrrh, Frankincense for harbinger, Myrrh to
make His sepulchre. Roses white and roses red, Thorns arrayed for His
dear Head. Hail! hail! Wise Men who seek His bed
Joseph
Little One, Little One, Saviour and Child, Father and Mother, my
Husband and Son; Born of the lily, the maid undefiled, Babe of my
Love, the Beatified One.
Little One, Little One, Master and LORD, Kings of the Earth come,
desiring Thy Face; I, Thy poor servitor, lowly afford All that my life
holds, for all is Thy Grace.
Little One, Little One, GOD over all, Earth is thy footstool, and Heav'n
is Thy throne: Joseph the carpenter, prostrate I fall; Praise thee, adore
Thee, and claim Thee mine own.
Maid Mary
Babe, dear Babe! Mine own, mine own, my heart's delight, The myrrh
between my breasts at night, My little Rose, my Lily white, My Babe
for whom the star's alight.
Babe, dear Babe! Mine own, mine own, GOD'S only SON, Foretold,

foreseen, since earth begun; Desire of nations, Promised One When
Eve was first by sin undone.
Babe, dear Babe! Mine own, mine own, the whole world's Child! Born
of each heart that's undefiled, Nursed at the breast of Mercy mild, And
in the arms of Love asiled.
Babe, dear Babe! My crown of glory, sorrow's sword, My Maker, King,
Redeemer, Lord, My Saviour and my great Reward; My little Son, my
Babe adored.
The Three Kings
Hail! Hail thou wondrous little King! To Thy dear Feet Our offerings
meet With bended knee we bring; O mighty baby King, Accept the
offering.
First King
LORD, I stoop low My head of snow, Thus I, the great, hail Thee, the
Least! And swing the censer for the Priest, The Priest with hands
upraised to bless, The Priest of this world's bitterness. As I stoop low
My head of snow, Bless me, O Priest, before I go.
Second King
Behold me, King! A man of might, Who rules dominions infinite;
Strong in the harvest of the years, And one who counts no kings as
peers. O little King, Behold my crown! I lay it down, And bow before
Thy lowly bed My all unworthy uncrowned head, For I am naught and
Thou art All. And Thou shalt climb a throne set high, Between sad
earth and silent sky, Thereon to agonize and die; And at Thy Feet the
world shall fall. Stretch out Thy little Hands, O King, Behold the
world's imagining!
Third King
Out of the shadow of the night I come,