V.
Under Which Sign?
On the one hand is a world of material things, a murky, smoke-dominated world in which men struggle and hate and fight. On the other side of the picture a star shines over the place where the Christ Child lies as the prophet and earnest of the good time to come.
Under Which Sign?
Watchman, what of the night? What of the day that's to dawn?
Is it bale-fire, battle, and blood? Is it hate in a land forlorn?
Is it benison, brotherhood, peace—peace to the near and the far?
Shall the earth with its phantoms beguile, or God utter Himself
through His star?
Blow, O ye winds of heaven, mighty the dark to dispel!
Shine, star of hope, on our world, vexed with delusions of hell!
Lure of the delved ore, mock-sun of our low estate!
Shadowed, time-born and time-doomed, on the hell-gendered
smoke-clouds of hate!
Shalt thou win for thy gloom-spread realm the limitless vault
of the sky?
With thy will-o-the-wisp wilt thou quench the lights of Eternity?
Shall thy angels proclaim from beneath the coming kingship of wrong?
'Glory of hate and ill-will!'—Shall this be our Christmas song?
Rout of poor, purblind souls: Have ye found your Bethlehem here—
Godless, and brotherless, fighting, in shame and sorrow and fear?
With your dollar for star would ye seek the goal of your
heart's desire?
Greet, as ye bloodily battle, the victor as king and Messiah?
Trample the noble and pure into slush to proclaim yourselves free?
Is your struggle success at the last, your victory liberty?
Dark beyond all the dark! Deep Heart of Eternity,
Whence streameth the starlight divine, from bounds of infinity!
Love that beats in the dark—beats and breaks through from afar!
Passionate purpose of God, breaking through in the signalling star!
Omnipotent Love, finding voice in evangel insistent as strong,
Streaming forth for our earth in angelical presence and song!
Child, with the out-stretched arms and heaven-uplifted eyes!
To Thy pure heart alone comes the message of the skies.
Yet out of thy joy shalt thou speak; yea, to all the world
shalt thou cry:
"Turn ye, O perishing fools! O turn ye, why will ye die?
See, 'yond the rolling clouds shines the coming kingdom of peace,
Where all men shall mingle as brothers and wars and discords
shall cease!"
Child! Nay, Prophet! we hail thee—Lord of the future age!
In a world of the sightless, seeing; in a world of the
foolish, sage!
Faint not nor fail in thy witness, though the world around
thee grow old;
Let not thy faith grow feeble; O let not thy love grow cold!
Interpret the times to our time; interpret thy hope to the race.
That the glory which shines in thine eyes may illumine
humanity's face!