Home      Back to Trinity 2




The Christian Year
by Blessed John Keble 


Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate you. We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love  the brethren.                  1 Saint John iii.13.

The clouds that wrap the setting sun 
When Autumn’s softest gleams are ending, 
Where all bright hues together run 
In sweet confusion blending: – 
Why, as we watch their floating wreath, 
Seem they the breath of life to breathe? 
To Fancy’s eye their motions prove 
They mantle round the Sun for love. 

When up some woodland dale we catch 
The many twinkling smile of ocean, 
Or with pleased ear bewildered watch 
His chime of restless motion; 
Still as the surging waves retire 
They seem to gasp with strong desire, 
Such signs of love old Ocean gives, 
We cannot choose but think he lives. 

Wouldst thou the life of souls discern? 
Nor human wisdom nor divine 
Helps thee by aught beside to learn; 
Love is life’s only sign. 
The spring of the regenerate heart, 
The pulse, the glow of every part, 
Is the true love of Christ our Lord, 
As man embraced, as God adored. 

But he, whose heart will bound to mark 
The full bright burst of summer morn, 
Loves too each little dewy spark 
By leaf or flow’ret worn; 
Cheap forms, and common hues, ‘tis true, 
Through the bright shower-drop meet his view; 
The colouring may be of this earth; 
The lustre comes of heavenly birth. 

Even so, who loves the Lord aright, 
No soul of man can worthless find; 
All will be precious in his sight, 
Since Christ on all hath shined: 
But chiefly Christian souls; for they, 
Though worn and soiled with sinful clay, 
Are yet, to eyes that see them true, 
All glistening with baptismal dew. 

Then marvel not, if such as bask 
In purest light of innocence, 
Hope against hope, in love’s dear task, 
Spite of all dark offence. 
If they who hate the trespass most, 
Yet, when all other love is lost, 
Love the poor sinner, marvel not, 
Christ’s mark outwears the rankest blot. 

No distance breaks the tie of blood: 
Brothers are brothers evermore; 
Nor wrong, nor wrath of deadliest mood, 
That magic may o’erpower; 
Oft, ere the common source be known, 
The kindred drops will claim their own, 
And throbbing pulses silently 
Move heart towards heart by sympathy. 

So is it with true Christian hearts; 
Their mutual share in Jesus’ blood 
An everlasting bond imparts 
Of holiest brotherhood: 
Oh! Might we all our lineage prove, 
Give and forgive, do good and love, 
By soft endearments in kind strife 
Lightening the load of daily life! 

There is much need: for not as yet 
Are we in shelter or repose, 
The holy house is still beset 
With leaguer of stern foes; 
Wild thoughts within, bad men without, 
All evil spirits round about, 
Are banded in unblest device, 
To spoil Love’s earthly paradise. 

Then draw we nearer day by day, 
Each to his brethren, all to God; 
Let the world take us as she may, 
We must not change our road; 
Not wondering, though in grief, to find 
The martyr’s foe still keep her mind; 
But fixed to hold Love’s banner fast, 
And by submission win at last. 

Used with permission from the Project Canterbury website. 

Transcribed by Dr. Elizabeth G. Melillo, AD 2000.