Step softly, under snow or rain,
To find the place
where men can pray;
The way is all so very plain
That we may lose
the way.
Oh, we have learnt to peer and pore
On tortured
puzzles from our youth,
We know all labyrinthine lore,
We are the three wise men of yore,
And we know all
things but the truth.
We have gone round and round the hill
And lost the wood
among the trees,
And learnt long names for every ill,
And served the mad gods, naming still
The furies the
Eumenides.
The gods of violence took the veil
Of vision and
philosophy,
The Serpent that brought all men bale,
He bites his own accursed tail,
And calls himself
Eternity.
Go humbly…it has hailed and snowed…
With voices low
and lanterns lit;
So very simple is the road,
That we may stray
from it.
The world grows terrible and white,
And blinding white
the breaking day;
We walk bewildered in the light,
For something is too large for sight,
And something much
too plain to say.
The Child that was ere worlds begun
(…We need but walk
a little way,
We need but see a latch undone…)
The Child that played with moon and sun
Is playing with a
little hay.
The house from which the heavens are fed,
The old strange
house that is our own,
Where trick of words are never said,
And Mercy is as plain as bread,
And Honour is as
hard as stone.
Go humbly, humble are the skies,
And low and large
and fierce the Star;
So very near the Manger lies
That we may travel
far.
Hark! Laughter like a lion wakes
To roar to the resounding
plain.
And the whole heaven shouts and shakes,
For God Himself is
born again,
And we are little children walking
Through the snow
and rain.
