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Tuesday, January 9, 2018

Poem: “The Epiphanie” by St. Robert Southwell, S.J.

To blaze the rising of this glorious sun
A glittering star appeareth in the east
Whose sight to pilgrim toil three sages won
To seek the light they long had in request,
And by this star to nobler star they pace
Whose arms did their desired sun embrace.

Still was the sky wherein these planets shined
And want the cloud that did eclipse their rays,
Yet through this cloud their passage they did find,
And pierced these sages’ hearts by secret ways,
Which made them know the ruler of the skies
By infant tongue and looks of babish eyes.

Heaven at her light, earth blusheth at her pride,
And of their pomp these peers ashamed be,
Their crowns, their robes, their train they set aside
When God’s poor cottage, clouts, and crew they see,
All glorious things their glory now despise
Since God contempt doth more than glory prize.

Three gifts they bring, three gifts they bear away,
For incense, myrrh, and gold, faith, hope, and love,
And with their gifts the givers’ hearts do stay,
Their mind from Christ no parting can remove,
His humble state, his stall, his poor retinue
They fancy more than all their rich revenue.

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