Key Of Life, The - Scene II
SCENE II
ST. JOSEPH
Goodman, goodman, open thy door,
Pilgrims are we, cold and footsore;
Our way is lost in the driving snow,
We have no otherwhere to go.
Goodman, goodman, open, I pray,
Weary are we and long is the way,
The thick night gathers, the snow comes down,
And the hill is steep to the little town.
ST. JOSEPH
Goodman, goodman, open thy door,
Pity the hearts and the feet that are sore,
Open, I pray, and take us in,
And evermore God's favour win.
HOST
Who are ye that come so late,
And make such knocking at my gate?
What bringeth you here in the cold and snow?
On to the city hasten and go.
ST. JOSEPH
O goodman, we are of David's line,
And glorious the names of our fathers shine,
We are come to be taxed in David's town,
But have no where to lay us down.
HOST
My house is full of the rich and great;
No room for pilgrims of thine estate
Go on, go on, in thy journey still,
To the little town on the top of the hill.
ST. JOSEPH
O goodman, for the love of God,
Send us not back the way we trod.
This woman is so ill and weak
She scarce hath strength enough to speak.
The wind is howling far and near,
And her meek spirit quakes with fear:
Her shrinking steps and gentle moan
Certain would melt a heart of stone.
An awful sense is in the air
Of dark powers watching everywhere;
And down the mountains as we came,
We saw wild beasts with eyes of flame.
We are not clad in silk and rings,
We are no company for kings;
If that the inn be crowded all,
Give us then shelter in a stall.
Our gentle brothers, ox and ass,
Will let the humble pilgrims pass;
And all night long, their breathings deep
Will soothe us in our dreamless sleep.
HOST
No time have I, in this cold night,
To hearken to your sorry plight.
Rise up and to the stable go,
There find some shelter from the snow.
Here, fellow, take these folk away,
Let them on straw their tired limbs lay.
Then quickly come, the hour is late,
Upon the others thou must wait.
SERVANT
Good people, pity in my heart,
Has made the tears from my eyes start.
So weary are ye and footsore,
'Tis shame to turn you from the door.
May God, who doeth all things right,
Give you good rest and sleep to-night.
Upon sweet straw your tired limbs lay,
Until the white dawn brings the day.
HYMN TO THE INFANT JESUS
O WONDROUS love of God,
That men will cast away,
O wondrous love of God,
Come to my heart and stay.
Cast out all trifling things,
False loves and toys of earth;
Enter, great King of Kings,
In me once more have birth.
O little face of love,
Against thy mother's breast,
The starry hosts above
Are resting in thy rest.
O little hands of power,
O infant's panting breath —
Eternity 's at flower
And life is born of death.
O little clinging mite,
Beneath thy mother's face,
Thy dreaming eyes have sight,
Beyond the bounds of space.
So fair and white thy throne,
O little tired one sleep;
The legions are thine own,
That guard the starlit deep.
O wondrous love of God,
Cast not my love away;
Enter my heart, my God,
Enter my heart and stay.
ST. JOSEPH
Goodman, goodman, open thy door,
Pilgrims are we, cold and footsore;
Our way is lost in the driving snow,
We have no otherwhere to go.
Goodman, goodman, open, I pray,
Weary are we and long is the way,
The thick night gathers, the snow comes down,
And the hill is steep to the little town.
ST. JOSEPH
Goodman, goodman, open thy door,
Pity the hearts and the feet that are sore,
Open, I pray, and take us in,
And evermore God's favour win.
HOST
Who are ye that come so late,
And make such knocking at my gate?
What bringeth you here in the cold and snow?
On to the city hasten and go.
ST. JOSEPH
O goodman, we are of David's line,
And glorious the names of our fathers shine,
We are come to be taxed in David's town,
But have no where to lay us down.
HOST
My house is full of the rich and great;
No room for pilgrims of thine estate
Go on, go on, in thy journey still,
To the little town on the top of the hill.
ST. JOSEPH
O goodman, for the love of God,
Send us not back the way we trod.
This woman is so ill and weak
She scarce hath strength enough to speak.
The wind is howling far and near,
And her meek spirit quakes with fear:
Her shrinking steps and gentle moan
Certain would melt a heart of stone.
An awful sense is in the air
Of dark powers watching everywhere;
And down the mountains as we came,
We saw wild beasts with eyes of flame.
We are not clad in silk and rings,
We are no company for kings;
If that the inn be crowded all,
Give us then shelter in a stall.
Our gentle brothers, ox and ass,
Will let the humble pilgrims pass;
And all night long, their breathings deep
Will soothe us in our dreamless sleep.
HOST
No time have I, in this cold night,
To hearken to your sorry plight.
Rise up and to the stable go,
There find some shelter from the snow.
Here, fellow, take these folk away,
Let them on straw their tired limbs lay.
Then quickly come, the hour is late,
Upon the others thou must wait.
SERVANT
Good people, pity in my heart,
Has made the tears from my eyes start.
So weary are ye and footsore,
'Tis shame to turn you from the door.
May God, who doeth all things right,
Give you good rest and sleep to-night.
Upon sweet straw your tired limbs lay,
Until the white dawn brings the day.
HYMN TO THE INFANT JESUS
O WONDROUS love of God,
That men will cast away,
O wondrous love of God,
Come to my heart and stay.
Cast out all trifling things,
False loves and toys of earth;
Enter, great King of Kings,
In me once more have birth.
O little face of love,
Against thy mother's breast,
The starry hosts above
Are resting in thy rest.
O little hands of power,
O infant's panting breath —
Eternity 's at flower
And life is born of death.
O little clinging mite,
Beneath thy mother's face,
Thy dreaming eyes have sight,
Beyond the bounds of space.
So fair and white thy throne,
O little tired one sleep;
The legions are thine own,
That guard the starlit deep.
O wondrous love of God,
Cast not my love away;
Enter my heart, my God,
Enter my heart and stay.
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