Our Lady of Snows, by Lionel Johnson
by VP
Posted on Friday August 05, 2022 at 01:00AM in Poetry
Far from the world, far from delight, 
Distinguishing not day from night ; 
Vowed to one sacrifice of all 
The happy things, that men befall ; 
Pleading one sacrifice, before 
Whom sun and sea and wind adore; 
Far from earth's comfort, far away, 
We cry to God, we cry and pray 
For men, who have the common day. 
Dance, merry world! and sing: but we. 
Hearing, remember Calvary: 
Get gold, and thrive you ! but the sun 
Once paled ; and the centurion 
Said : This dead man was Gods own Son, 
Think you, we shrink from common toil, 
Works of the mart, works of the soil ; 
That, prisoners of strong despair, 
We breathe this melancholy air; 
Forgetting the dear calls of race, 
And bonds of house, and ties of place; 
That, cowards, from the field we turn. 
And heavenward, in our weakness, yearn? 
Unjust! unkind! while you despise 
Our lonely years, our mournful cries: 
You are the happier for our prayer; 
The guerdon of our souls, you share. 
Not in such feebleness of heart, 
We play our solitary part; 
Not fugitives of battle, we 
Hide from the world, and let things be: 
But rather, looking over earth, 
Between the bounds of death and birth ; 
And sad at heart, for sorrow and sin. 
We wondered, where might help begin. 
And on our wonder came God's choice, 
A sudden light, a clarion voice, 
Clearing the dark, and sounding clear : 
And we obeyed: behold us, here! 
In prison bound, but with your chains: 
Sufferers, but of alien pains. 
Merry the world, and thrives apace. 
Each in his customary place: 
Sailors upon the carrying sea. 
Shepherds upon the pasture lea, 
And merchants of the town ; and they, 
Who march to death, the fighting way; 
And there are lovers in the spring. 
With those, who dance, and those, who sing: 
The commonwealth of every day. 
Eastward and westward, far away. 
Once the sun paled; once cried aloud 
The Roman, from beneath the cloud: 
This day the Son of God is dead! 
Yet heed men, what the Roman said? 
They heed not : we then heed for them,
The mindless of Jerusalem ; 
Careless, they live and die : but we 
Care, in their stead, for Calvary. 
O joyous men and women! strong, 
To urge the wheel of life along. 
With strenuous arm, and cheerful strain, 
And wisdom of laborious brain: 
We give our life, our heart, our breath, 
That you may live to conquer death; 
That, past your tomb, with souls in health, 
Joy may be yours, and blessed wealth; 
Through vigils of the painful night. 
Our spirits with your tempters fight: 
For you, for you, we live alone. 
Where no joy comes, where cold winds moan: 
Nor friends have we, nor have we foes ; 
Our Queen is of the lonely Snows. 
Ah! and sometimes, our prayers between. 
Come sudden thoughts of what hath been : 
Dreams! And from dreams, once more we fall 
To prayer : God save, Christ keep, them all. 
And thou, who knowest not these things, 
Hearken, what news our message brings! 
Our toils, thy joy of life forgot: 
Our lives of prayer forget thee not. 
Source: Dreams and Images: An Anthology of Catholic Poets by Joyce Kilmer (Boni and Liveright, 1917) p109