Category: Meynell

And will they cast the alters down, Scatter the chalice, crush the bread? In field, in village and in town He hides an unregarded head; 4 Waits in the corn-lands far and near, Bright in His sun, dark in His frost, Sweet in the vine, ripe in the ear Lonely, unconsecrated Host 8 In ambush…

With this ambiguous earth His dealings have been told us. These abide: The signal to a maid, the human birth, The lesson and the young Man crucified. 4 But not a star of all The innumerable host of stars has heard How he administered this terrestrial ball. Our race have kept their Lord’s entrusted Word…