First Sunday After Christmas

John Keble 1792 (Fairford) – 1866 (Bournemouth)



'Tis true, of old the unchanging sun
  His daily course refused to run,
     The pale moon hurrying to the west
  Paused at a mortal's call, to aid
  The avenging storm of war, that laid
Seven guilty realms at once on earth's defiled breast.

  But can it be, one suppliant tear
  Should stay the ever-moving sphere?
     A sick man's lowly-breathed sigh,
  When from the world he turns away,
  And hides his weary eyes to pray,
Should change your mystic dance, ye wanderers of the sky?

  We too, O Lord, would fain command,
  As then, Thy wonder-working hand,
     And backward force the waves of Time,
  That now so swift and silent bear
  Our restless bark from year to year;
Help us to pause and mourn to Thee our tale of crime.

  Bright hopes, that erst the bosom warmed,
  And vows, too pure to be performed,
     And prayers blown wide by gales of care; -
  These, and such faint half-waking dreams,
  Like stormy lights on mountain streams,
Wavering and broken all, athwart the conscience glare.

  How shall we 'scape the o'erwhelming Past?
  Can spirits broken, joys o'ercast,
     And eyes that never more may smile:  -
  Can these th' avenging bolt delay,
  Or win us back one little day
The bitterness of death to soften and beguile?

  Father and Lover of our souls!
  Though darkly round Thine anger rolls,
     Thy sunshine smiles beneath the gloom,
  Thou seek'st to warn us, not confound,
  Thy showers would pierce the hardened ground
And win it to give out its brightness and perfume.

  Thou smil'st on us in wrath, and we,
  E'en in remorse, would smile on Thee,
     The tears that bathe our offered hearts,
  We would not have them stained and dim,
  But dropped from wings of seraphim,
All glowing with the light accepted love imparts.

  Time's waters will not ebb, nor stay;
  Power cannot change them, but Love may;
     What cannot be, Love counts it done.
  Deep in the heart, her searching view
  Can read where Faith is fixed and true,
Through shades of setting life can see Heaven's work begun.

  O Thou, who keep'st the Key of Love,
  Open Thy fount, eternal Dove,
     And overflow this heart of mine,
  Enlarging as it fills with Thee,
  Till in one blaze of charity
Care and remorse are lost, like motes in light divine;

  Till as each moment wafts us higher,
  By every gush of pure desire,
     And high-breathed hope of joys above,
  By every secret sigh we heave,
  Whole years of folly we outlive,
In His unerring sight, who measures Life by Love.

Font size:
Collection  PDF     
 

Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

2:11 min read
63

Quick analysis:

Scheme AABCCB DEFGGF HHIDEI JJDKKD XBLGGL MMNOON PPQXIQ GGARRA SSTPPT UUSXXS
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 2,433
Words 428
Stanzas 10
Stanza Lengths 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6

John Keble

John Keble was an English churchman and poet, one of the leaders of the Oxford Movement. Keble College, Oxford was named after him. more…

All John Keble poems | John Keble Books

0 fans

Discuss the poem First Sunday After Christmas with the community...

0 Comments

    Translation

    Find a translation for this poem in other languages:

    Select another language:

    • - Select -
    • 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
    • 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
    • Español (Spanish)
    • Esperanto (Esperanto)
    • 日本語 (Japanese)
    • Português (Portuguese)
    • Deutsch (German)
    • العربية (Arabic)
    • Français (French)
    • Русский (Russian)
    • ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
    • 한국어 (Korean)
    • עברית (Hebrew)
    • Gaeilge (Irish)
    • Українська (Ukrainian)
    • اردو (Urdu)
    • Magyar (Hungarian)
    • मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
    • Indonesia (Indonesian)
    • Italiano (Italian)
    • தமிழ் (Tamil)
    • Türkçe (Turkish)
    • తెలుగు (Telugu)
    • ภาษาไทย (Thai)
    • Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
    • Čeština (Czech)
    • Polski (Polish)
    • Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
    • Românește (Romanian)
    • Nederlands (Dutch)
    • Ελληνικά (Greek)
    • Latinum (Latin)
    • Svenska (Swedish)
    • Dansk (Danish)
    • Suomi (Finnish)
    • فارسی (Persian)
    • ייִדיש (Yiddish)
    • հայերեն (Armenian)
    • Norsk (Norwegian)
    • English (English)

    Citation

    Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:

    Style:MLAChicagoAPA

    "First Sunday After Christmas" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Mar. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/23569/first-sunday-after-christmas>.

    Become a member!

    Join our community of poets and poetry lovers to share your work and offer feedback and encouragement to writers all over the world!

    March 2024

    Poetry Contest

    Join our monthly contest for an opportunity to win cash prizes and attain global acclaim for your talent.
    3
    days
    4
    hours
    22
    minutes

    Special Program

    Earn Rewards!

    Unlock exciting rewards such as a free mug and free contest pass by commenting on fellow members' poems today!

    Browse Poetry.com

    Quiz

    Are you a poetry master?

    »
    Roald Dahl wrote: "The animal I really dig, above all others is the..."
    A horse
    B pig
    C dog
    D cat