Eleanor C. Donnelly

“ Tho’ all the foul fiends of the regions infernal
Assail the sad spirit with clamorous din;
Tho’ earth and the earthy obscure the Eternal,
And Life’s brightest promise be blighted by sin,—
What bliss but to feel the cool print of thy sandal
On fiery promptings and passions aglow;
To nestle, like birds, ’neath thy sky-color’d mantle,
And calm our hot hearts on thy bosom of snow!
[Pg 40]
What bliss thro’ the darkness, the heat, and the clamor,
To fly to thy feet, to thy virginal shrine,—
And there, in thy presence, releas’d from Sin’s glamor,
Drink in deepest draughts of thy spirit divine! ”

“ The shepherds at the dazzling Vision stare;
The gentle beasts, at Joseph’s touch, bow down;
And angel choirs in vibrant tones declare
That Christ is born a babe in David’s town!
[Pg 30]
O Babyhood, the harbinger of hope
To every babe enthroned on woman’s breast!
O Motherhood, within whose gracious scope
All lesser motherhood is shrined and blessed!
No sceptred Cæsar can dispute your sway—
Angels or men your golden mission claim—
For yours is Christ—to-day and yesterday,
And thro’ the eternal ages, still the same! ”

“ Shall emulate the Shepherds’ glowing zeal,
Or, like the Magi from the Orient marts,
Shall gold, and myrrh, and frankincense reveal.
O Babe, so rich in Thy great poverty,
Give us Detachment’s grand, divorcing grace!
O Babe, sublime in Thy humility,
Grant us, in Thee, all pride to self-abase!
O suff’ring Babe, so blissful in Thy woe,
A self-denying joy, on us, bestow!
[Pg 37]
The God-Man.
“Would I might be as God!” the first man cried,
When, with forbidden fruits, Sin’s reign began.—
Lo! to repair the ruin wrought by Pride,
Christ, in the manger, we behold as Man! ”