A Poem Draft for Epiphany

Epiphany

I heard the preacher speaking,
and of miracles I heard,
the wine of revelation
from the water of our words.
I heard of men and women
in their humble little ways
transfigured to the glory
of the Ancient One of Days,
first river-bathed and lustral
in the waters of the earth,
then drunken, full of Spirit,
with the Wine of heaven's birth;
of wisdom-seeking sages
who had sought the Good by star
and found it held by mother
where the Jewish people are,
the True in swaddled clothing,
as their wise philosophy
was turned, like wedding-water,
to that wine, epiphany.

This Holy Vow that Man Can Make

Lord, Who at Cana's Wedding Feast
by Godfrey Thring

Lord, Who at Cana’s wedding feast
Didst as a Guest appear,
Thou dearer far than earthly guest,
Vouchsafe Thy presence here.
For holy Thou indeed dost prove
The marriage vow to be,
Proclaiming it a type of love
Between the Church and Thee.

This holy vow that man can make,
The golden thread in life,
The bond that none may dare to break,
That bindeth man and wife,
Which, blest by Thee, whate’er betide,
No evil shall destroy,
Through careworn days each care divides
And doubles every joy.

On those who now before Thee kneel,
O Lord, Thy blessing pour,
That each may wake the other’s zeal
To love Thee more and more.
Oh, grant them here in peace to live,
In purity and love,
And, this world leaving, to receive
A crown of life above.

This Set Down

The Journey of The Magi
T.S. Eliot

A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.

Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped in away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for Birth or Death?
There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

Dove and Lamb and Babe Agree in Love

Epiphany
by Christina Rossetti

'Lord Babe, if Thou art He
We sought for patiently,
Where is Thy court?
Hither may prophecy and star resort;
Men heed not their report.' –
'Bow down and worship, righteous man:
This Infant of a span
Is He man sought for since the world began!' –
'Then, Lord, accept my gold, too base a thing
For Thee, of all kings King.' –

'Lord Babe, despite Thy youth
I hold Thee of a truth
Both Good and Great:
But wherefore dost Thou keep so mean a state,
Low-lying desolate?' –
'Bow down and worship, righteous seer:
The Lord our God is here
Approachable, Who bids us all draw near.' –
'Wherefore to Thee I offer frankincense,
Thou Sole Omnipotence.' –

'But I have only brought
Myrrh; no wise afterthought
Instructed me
To gather pearls or gems, or choice to see
Coral or ivory.' –
'Not least thine offering proves thee wise:
For myrrh means sacrifice,
And He that lives, this Same is He that dies.' –
'Then here is myrrh: alas, yea woe is me
That myrrh befitteth Thee.' –

Myrrh, frankincense, and gold:
And lo from wintry fold
Good-will doth bring
A Lamb, the innocent likeness of this King
Whom stars and seraphs sing:
And lo the bird of love, a Dove,
Flutters and coos above:
And Dove and Lamb and Babe agree in love: –
Come all mankind, come all creation hither,
Come, worship Christ together.

Before 1886

A Kingdom Not Human but Divine

The Three Kings
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Three Kings came riding from far away,
Melchoir and Gaspar and Baltasar;
Three Wise Men out of the East were they,
And they travelled by night and they slept by day,
For their guide was a beautiful, wonderful star.

The star was so beautiful, large, and clear,
That all the other stars of the sky
Became a white mist in the atmosphere,
And by this they knew that the coming was near
Of the Prince foretold in the prophecy.

Three caskets they bore on their saddlebows,
Three caskets of gold with golden keys;
Their robes were of crimson silk with rows
Of bells and pomegranates and furbelows,
Their turbans like blossoming almond trees.

And so the Three Kings rode into the West,
Through the dusk of night, over hill and dell
And sometimes they nodded with beard on breast,
And sometimes talked, as they paused to rest,
With the people they met at some wayside well.

"Of the child that is born," said Baltasar,
"Good people, I pray you, tell us the news;
For we in the East have seen his star,
And have ridden fast, and have ridden far,
To find and worship the King of the Jews."

And the people answered, "You ask in vain;
We know of no king but Herod the Great!"
They thought the Wise Men were men insane,
As they spurred their horses across the plain,
Like riders in haste, and who cannot wait.

And when they came to Jerusalem,
Herod the Great, who had heard this thing,
Sent for the Wise Men and questioned them;
And said, "Go down unto Bethlehem,
And bring me tidings of this new king."

So they rode away; and the star stood still,
The only one in the gray of morn;
Yes, it stopped, it stood still of its own free will,
Right over Bethlehem on the hill,
The city of David where Christ as born

And the Three Kings rode through the gate and the guard,
Through the silent street, till their horses turned
And neighed as they entered and great inn-yard;
But the windows were closed, and the doors were barred,
And only a light in the stable burned.

And cradled there in the scented hay,
In the air made sweet by the breath of kine,
The little child in the manger lay,
The child, that would be king one day
Of a kingdom not human but divine.

His mother Mary of Nazareth
Sat watching beside his place of rest,
Watching the even flow of his breath,
For the joy of life and the terror of death
Were mingled together in her breast.

They laid their offerings at his feet;
The gold was their tribute to a King,
The frankincense, with its odor sweet,
Was for the Priest, the Paraclete,
The myrrh for the body’s burying.

And the mother wondered and bowed her head,
And sat as still as a statue of stone;
Her heart was troubled yet comforted,
Remembering what the Angel had said
Of an endless reign and of David’s throne.

Then the Kings rode out of the city gate,
With a clatter of hoofs in proud array;
But they went not back to Herod the Great,
For they knew his malice and feared his hate,
And returned to their homes by another way.

For to Present that Rich King

Out of the Blossom Sprang a Thorn
(15th Century English carol, author unknown)

Out of the blossom sprang a thorn,
When God himself would be born;
He let us never be forlorn,
That born was of Marie.

There sprang a well all at her foot,
That all this world is burned to good,
When Jesu Christ took flesh and blood
That born was of Marie.

Out of the well sprang a stream
From patriarch to Jerusalem,
Till Christ Himself it took again,
That born was of Marie.

In winter when the frost Him froze,
A poor bedding our Lord Him chose;
Between an ox and an ass
God's Son born He was
That born was of Marie.

It was upon the Twelfth Day,
There come three kings in rich array
To seek Christ where He lay
That born was of Marie.

Three kings out of divers lands,
Swithe comen with hearts strong,
The Child to seek underfong,
That born was of Marie.

The star led them a right way
To the Child where He lay;
He helpeth us both night and day,
That born was of Marie.

Balthazar was the first king,
He broughte gold to his offering,
For to present that rich King,
That born was of Marie.

Melchior was the second king,
He brought incense to his offering,
For to present that rich King,
That born was of Marie.

Jasper was the third king,
He brought myrrh to his offering,
For to present that rich King,
That born was of Marie.

There they offered their presents,
With gold and myrrh and frankincense,
As clerks read in their sequence
In Epiphany.

Kneel we down Him beforn,
And pray we to Him that now is born,
He let us never be forlorn,
That born was of Marie.

Manifestation

Tomorrow is Epiphany, of course, which is the feast of revelation, and is associated with three things: the visit of the Magi to the infant Christ, the wedding feast at Cana, and the baptism in the Jordan, each of which is in a different way a story about the revelation of Christ to the world. This is a very famous painting by the sixteenth-century Venetian painter, Paolo Veronese; Dante Gabriel Rossetti regarded it as the greatest painting in the world. The thing is utterly huge and intricately detailed; you should click through to see the Wikimedia Commons image, which allows you to zoom in on particular parts.

Epiphany is often considered the fourth most important feast in the Christian calendar, after Easter, Christmas, and Pentecost. I'll be putting up several notable Epiphany-themed poems throughout the day tomorrow.