Classic and Contemporary Poetry
BROTHER HUBERT, by ANONYMOUS First Line: Holy-thoughted brother hubert Last Line: Hadst thou staid I must have fled Subject(s): Charity;christmas; "philanthropy;nativity, The; | ||||||||
HOLY-THOUGHTED Brother Hubert, In his cell one evening sat, Painting angels in a missal Which he long had labored at; Till the ringers in the belfry Chimed the hour of setting sun, And he closed his precious volume, Saying: "Now my work is done. "Time flies fast when one paints angels; I had not thought it was so late; I must go and feed the poor folk Waiting at the Convent gate." Kneeling low, he prayed a moment, Turning then to leave the room, Started for he saw a figure Standing in a purple gloom. Sharpest thorns his head surrounded, Cruel cords his thin wrists bound, In his hands and feet were nail-prints, In his side a spear-point wound; And a purely glowing radiance From his face was shed abroad; By these signs the pious Hubert Knew the vision was his Lord. On his Master, glory stricken, Long the Monk gazed silently, Till the thought arose within him "Ah! how blessèd I should be "Could my eyes but dwell forever On that dear, that glorious head; But below the Convent children Wait impatient to be fed." Straightway where the poor folk waited For their evening dole he went, Since the monks, though worn by fasting, For the needy kept no Lent. And good Hubert every sunset, (As the Convent book records), At the gate stood giving freely Bread and wine and loving words. So this evening all the poor folk Feasted to their hearts' content, Till they left the gateway taking Hubert's blessing as they went. Swiftly then the good Monk hastened Down the halls and through his door; Lo! the vision still was waiting, Only brighter than before. And the Master, turning on him Eyes of blessing, smiled and said: "Feeding these ones thou hast fed me, Hadst thou staid I must have fled." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SITTING BULL IN SERBIA by WILLIAM JAY SMITH TO THE EXCELLENT ORINDA by PHILO PHILIPPA EPIGRAM OCCASIONED BY CIBBER'S VERSES IN PRAISE OF NASH: 1 by ALEXANDER POPE THE GIFT OF THE GODS by JOHN GODFREY SAXE TO CHRISTOPHER NORTH by ALFRED TENNYSON BEAU NASH by CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER BEAU NASH AND THE ROMAN, OR THE TWO ERAS by CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER TIS A LITTLE JOURNEY by ANONYMOUS |
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