Her wood is crazed and little worth
  Excepting as to burn,
That we may warm and make our mirth
  Until the Spring return—­
Until the Spring return, good sirs. 
  When people walk abroad;
Which well must be as ye can see—­
  And who shall judge the Lord?

God bless the master of this house. 
  And all who sleep therein! 
And guard the fens from pirate folk. 
  And keep us all from sin,
To walk in honesty, good sirs,
  Of thought and deed and word! 
Which shall befriend our latter end—­
  And who shall judge the Lord?

‘MY NEW-CUT ASHLAR’

My new-cut ashlar takes the light
Where crimson-blank the windows flare. 
By my own work before the night,
Great Overseer, I make my prayer.

If there be good in that I wrought,
Thy Hand compelled it, Master, Thine—­
Where I have failed to meet Thy Thought
I know, through Thee, the blame was mine.

One instant’s toil to Thee denied
Stands all Eternity’s offence. 
Of that I did with Thee to guide
To Thee, through Thee, be excellence.

The depth and dream of my desire,
The bitter paths wherein I stray—­
Thou knowest Who hath made the Fire,
Thou knowest Who hast made the Clay.

Who, lest all thought of Eden fade,
Bring’st Eden to the craftsman’s brain—­
Godlike to muse o’er his own Trade
And manlike stand with God again!

One stone the more swings into place
In that dread Temple of Thy worth. 
It is enough that, through Thy Grace,
I saw nought common on Thy Earth.

Take not that vision from my ken—­
Oh whatsoe’er may spoil or speed. 
Help me to need no aid from men
That I may help such men as need!

EDDI’S SERVICE

(A.D. 687)

Eddi, priest of St. Wilfrid
  In the chapel at Manhood End,
Ordered a midnight service
  For such as cared to attend.

But the Saxons were keeping Christmas,
  And the night was stormy as well. 
Nobody came to service
  Though Eddi rang the bell.

‘Wicked weather for walking,’
  Said Eddi of Manhood End. 
’But I must go on with the service
  For such as care to attend.’

The altar-candles were lighted,—­
  An old marsh donkey came,
Bold as a guest invited,
  And stared at the guttering flame.

The storm beat on at the windows,
  The water splashed on the floor,
And a wet, yoke-weary bullock
  Pushed in through the open door.

’How do I know what is greatest,
  How do I know what is least? 
That is My Father’s business,’
  Said Eddi, Wilfrid’s priest.

’But—­three are gathered together—­
  Listen to me and attend. 
I bring good news, my brethren!’
  Said Eddi of Manhood End.

And he told the Ox of a Manger
  And a Stall in Bethlehem,
And he spoke to the Ass of a Rider,
  That rode to Jerusalem.