Tuesday, January 02, 2007

A Child of the Snows

There is heard a hymn when the panes are dim
And never before or again,
When the nights are strong with a darkness long,
And the dark is alive rain.

Never we know but in sleet and snow,
The place where the great fires are,
That the midst of the earth is a raging mirth
And the heart of the earth is a star.

And at night we win to the ancient inn
Where the child in the frost is furled,
We follow the feet where all souls meet
At the inn at the end of the world.

The gods lie dead where the leaves lie red,
For the flame of the sun is flown,
The gods lie cold where the leaves lie gold,
And a Child comes forth alone.

-G.K. Chesterton

We found this last night in O Holy Night, a collection of Christmas poetry, from Sophia Institute Press.

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