Gilbert Keith Chesterton(29 May 1874 - 14 June 1936 / London, England)
A Child of the Snows
- by Gilbert Keith Chesterton39
There is heard a hymn when the panes are dim, And never before or again, When the nights are strong with a darkness long, And the dark is alive with rain.
Never we know but in sleet and in snow, The place where the great fires are, That the midst of the earth is a raging mirth And the heart of the earth a star.
And at night we win to the ancient inn Where the child in the frost is furled, We follow the feet where all souls meet At the inn at the end of the world.
The gods lie dead where the leaves lie red, For the flame of the sun is flown, The gods lie cold where the leaves lie gold, And a Child comes forth alone.
- by Gilbert Keith Chesterton36
O God of earth and altar, Bow down and hear our cry, Our earthly rulers falter, Our people drift and die; The walls of gold entomb us, The swords of scorn divide, Take not thy thunder from us, But take away our pride.
From all that terror teaches, From lies of tongue and pen, From all the easy speeches That comfort cruel men, From sale and profanation Of honour and the sword, From sleep and from damnation, Deliver us, good Lord.
Tie in a living tether The prince and priest and thrall, Bind all our lives together, Smite us and save us all; In ire and exultation Aflame with faith, and free, Lift up a living nation, A single sword to thee.
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