Saturday, December 24, 2005

from "Nativitie" by John Donne (1572-1631)

Immensity cloistered in thy dear womb,
Now leaves his well-beloved imprisonment,
There he has made himself to his intent
Weak enough, now into our world to come;

But oh, for thee, for him, has the inn no room?
Yet lay him in this stall, and from the Orient,
Stars, and wisemen will travel to prevent
The effect of Herod's jealous general doom;

Seeing you, my soul, with thy faith's eyes, how he
Which fills all place, yet none hold him, doth lie?
Was not his pity towards thee wondrous high,
That would have need to be pittied by thee?

Kiss him, and with him into Egypt go,
With his kind mother, who partakes thy woe.

Icon of Our Lady of Vladimir

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