Friday, January 21, 2011

Christ's Little Lamb

St. Agnes
by Alfred Tennyson


Deep on the convent-roof the snows
Are sparkling to the moon:
My breath to heaven like vapour goes:
May my soul follow soon!
The shadows of the convent-towers
Slant down the snowy sward,
Still creeping with the creeping hours
That lead me to my Lord:
Make Thou my spirit pure and clear
As are the frosty skies,
Or this first snowdrop of the year
That in my bosom lies.

As these white robes are soil'd and dark,
To yonder shining ground;
As this pale taper's earthly spark,
To yonder argent round;
So shows my soul before the Lamb,
My spirit before Thee;
So in mine earthly house I am,
To that I hope to be.
Break up the heavens, O Lord! and far,
Thro' all yon starlight keen,
Draw me, thy bride, a glittering star,
In raiment white and clean.

He lifts me to the golden doors;
The flashes come and go;
All heaven bursts her starry floors,
And strows her lights below,
And deepens on and up! the gates
Roll back, and far within
For me the Heavenly Bridegroom waits,
To make me pure of sin.
The sabbaths of Eternity,
One sabbath deep and wide--
A light upon the shining sea--
The bridegroom with his bride!

Today is the Feast of St. Agnes, the most widely known of the Virgin Martyrs. Tennyson's poem was later re-titled "St. Agnes' Eve," which echoes Keats's poem of the same name; and, indeed, it's clear that this poem is nothing other than Tennyson's riff on Keats's poem.

Everyone should know the basic story of St. Agnes, if only because it has been so common a theme in art and literature. Because she's an early martyr, there are lots of variations, of course, and thus a lot of room for artists and writers to take a bit of artistic license.

St. Agnes plays a key role (although is not the main character) in Cardinal Wiseman's novel Fabiola, which is actually pretty decent if you want some fairly light reading about her.