~hos basilei, hos theps, hos nekrps.~ GREGORY n.a.z.iANZEN.

I.

The Pope on Christmas Day Sits in Saint Peter's chair; But the peoples murmur and say "Our souls are sick and forlorn, And who will show us where Is the stable where Christ was born?"

II.

The star is lost in the dark; The manger is lost in the straw; The Christ cries faintly ... hark!...

Through bands that swaddle and strangle-- But the Pope in the chair of awe Looks down the great quadrangle.

III.

The Magi kneel at his foot, Kings of the East and West, But, instead of the angels (mute Is the "Peace on earth" of their song), The peoples, perplexed and opprest, Are sighing "How long, how long?"

IV.

And, instead of the kine, bewilder in Shadow of aisle and dome, The bear who tore up the children, The fox who burnt up the corn, And the wolf who suckled at Rome Brothers to slay and to scorn.

V.

Cardinals left and right of him, Worshippers round and beneath, The silver trumpets at sight of him Thrill with a musical blast: But the people say through their teeth, "Trumpets? we wait for the Last!"

VI.

He sits in the place of the Lord, And asks for the gifts of the time; Gold, for the haft of a sword To win back Romagna averse, Incense, to sweeten a crime, And myrrh, to embitter a curse.

VII.

Then a king of the West said "Good!-- I bring thee the gifts of the time; Red, for the patriot's blood, Green, for the martyr's crown, White, for the dew and the rime, When the morning of G.o.d comes down."

VIII.

--O mystic tricolor bright!

The Pope's heart quailed like a man's; The cardinals froze at the sight, Bowing their tonsures h.o.a.ry: And the eyes in the peac.o.c.k-fans Winked at the alien glory.

IX.

But the peoples exclaimed in hope, "Now blessed be he who has brought These gifts of the time to the Pope, When our souls were sick and forlorn.

--And _here_ is the star we sought, To show us where Christ was born!"

ITALY AND THE WORLD.

I.

Florence, Bologna, Parma, Modena: When you named them a year ago, So many graves reserved by G.o.d, in a Day of Judgment, you seemed to know, To open and let out the resurrection.

II.

And meantime (you made your reflection If you were English), was nought to be done But sorting sables, in predilection For all those martyrs dead and gone, Till the new earth and heaven made ready.

III.

And if your politics were not heady, Violent, ... "Good," you added, "good In all things! Mourn on sure and steady.

Churchyard thistles are wholesome food For our European wandering a.s.ses.

IV.

"The date of the resurrection pa.s.ses Human foreknowledge: men unborn Will gain by it (even in the lower cla.s.ses), But none of these. It is not the morn Because the c.o.c.k of France is crowing.

V.

"c.o.c.ks crow at midnight, seldom knowing Starlight from dawn-light! 't is a mad Poor creature." Here you paused, and growing Scornful,--suddenly, let us add, The trumpet sounded, the graves were open.

VI.

Life and life and life! agrope in The dusk of death, warm hands, stretched out For swords, proved more life still to hope in, Beyond and behind. Arise with a shout, Nation of Italy, slain and buried!

VII.

Hill to hill and turret to turret Flashing the tricolor,--newly created Beautiful Italy, calm, unhurried, Rise heroic and renovated, Rise to the final rest.i.tution.

VIII.

Rise; prefigure the grand solution Of earth's munic.i.p.al, insular schisms,-- Statesmen draping self-love's conclusion In cheap vernacular patriotisms, Unable to give up Judaea for Jesus.

IX.

Bring us the higher example; release us Into the larger coming time: And into Christ's broad garment piece us Rags of virtue as poor as crime, National selfishness, civic vaunting.

X.

No more Jew nor Greek then,--taunting Nor taunted;--no more England nor France!

But one confederate brotherhood planting One flag only, to mark the advance, Onward and upward, of all humanity.

XI.

For civilization perfected Is fully developed Christianity.

"Measure the frontier," shall it be said, "Count the ships," in national vanity?

--Count the nation's heart-beats sooner.

XII.

For, though behind by a cannon or schooner, That nation still is predominant Whose pulse beats quickest in zeal to oppugn or Succour another, in wrong or want, Pa.s.sing the frontier in love and abhorrence.