Sir John Beaumont.
A HYMN FOR THE EPIPHANY.
SUNG AS BY THE THREE KINGS.
1 King. Bright Babe! whose awful beauties make
The morn incur a sweet mistake;
2 King. For whom the officious heavens devise
To disinherit the sun's rise;
3 King. Delicately to displace
The day, and plant it fairer in Thy face;
1 King. O Thou born King of loves!
2 King. Of lights!
3 King. Of joys!
Chorus. Look up, sweet Babe, look up and see!
For love of Thee,
Thus far from home
The East is come
To seek herself in Thy sweet eyes.
1 King. We who strangely went astray,
Lost in a bright
Meridian night;
2 King. A darkness made of too much day;
3 King. Beckoned from far
By Thy fair star,
Lo, at last have found our way.
Chorus. To Thee, Thou Day of Night! Thou East of West!
Lo, we at last have found the way
To Thee, the world's great universal East,
The general and indifferent day.
1 King. All-circling point! all-centring sphere!
The world's one round eternal year:
2 King. Whose full and all-unwrinkled face
Nor sinks nor swells with time or place;
3 King. But everywhere and every while
Is one consistent solid smile,
1 King. Not vexed and tost,
2 King. 'Twixt spring and frost;
3 King. Nor by alternate shreds of light;
Sordidly shifting hands with shades and night.