The Magi came to Bethlehem,
The House of Bread, and following them,
As they the Star, I too am led
To Christ, the living House of Bread.
A pilgrim from the hour of birth,
The night-cold bosom of the earth
I traversed, heavenward journeying,
A hidden prophecy of Spring
My only guide, a lifted blade
My only weapon, till the Shade,
The latest to withstand me, lay
Death-smitten at the door of Day.
O Light! O heavenly Warmth! to you
My cup-bearers, I quaffed the dew,
The pledge and sacramental sign
Of Life that mingling first with mine—
A sap-like inspiration—ran.
To mingle with the life of man.
As leaped the Infant in the womb,
At Mary’s voice, e’en so to bloom
And ripeness, while the reapers sang,
My soul—their songs inspiring—sprang
To meet the scythe, the flail, the stone
Of sacrifice, whereby alone,
Through waves of palpitating flame,
The Bread upon the altar came.
And here, O mystery of Love!
Behold, from highest heaven above,
Through Me, the Son of God again,
A victim for the sons of men!
(John Bannister Tabb)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Man Poems, God Poems, Life Poems, Light Poems, Heaven Poems, Christianity Poems, Jesus Christ Poems, Sons Poems, Spring Poems, Birth PoemsBased on Keywords: soul-, cup-bearers, sap-like, death-smitten