,,the ,,miracle ,,songs  ,,of ,,jesus   
,,by ,,wilson ,,macdonald     ,copyright
 #aiba  ,by ,wilson ,mac,donald         
,published ,november1 #aiba  ,all rights
 reserved     ,,foreword  ,mr4 ,wilson  
,mac,donald is already well-known to    
students of ,canadian verse through his 
volume ,the ,song of the ,prairie ,land1
 published in #aiah1 and also through   
various poems which have appeared from  
time to time in magazines in ,canada and
 abroad4  ,the poem1 ,the ,miracle      
,songs of ,jesus1 hitherto unpublished1 
shows ,mr4 ,mac,donald's distinguished  
gift in a new form1 and will be welcomed
 as an important contribution to        
religious verse4       ,,the ,,miracle  
,,songs ,,of ,,jesus     ,jesus1 the    
poet of ,galilee1   ,fashioned the light
 in ,his lyric hands1   ,and held it up 
for all men to see3   ,the ,publican and
 the ,pharisee1   ,the merchant rich and
 the robber bands   ,on the outcast     
fringe of ,galilee4   ,but all of the   
wise men sneered at ,him2   ,and the gay

 young fellows jeered at ,him2   ,and   
only a fisherman fool or two   ,looked  
up at the ,light with its liquid hue    
,and drank its beauty of red and blue4  
,jesus1 the poet of ,galilee1   ,sang   
that the weary might be free2   ,sang of
 the lilies--how their glory   ,shamed  
the best at a king's command2   ,sang   
,his truths in a lyric story   ,even the
 poor could understand4   ,and the wise 
men heard and they tried to scan   ,the 
rhymes of the poet ,son-of-,man4   ,but1
 every time that ,he sang1 they found   
,some cherished rule of their pedant    
school   ,was killed in his poem's      
strange1 new sound4    ,and ,jesus1 the 
poet1 grew sick at heart   ,and fled    
from the halls where learning kills2    
,and took ,his verse from the fear of   
art   ,to the bold delight of the       
rain-washed hills4   ,and the songs ,he 
sang to the desert sea   ,were far too  
sweet for the ears of men2   ,but the   
gray-white dunes of ,galilee   ,have    
blown with a fairer flower since then4  

,a learned group of dons will gloat     
,at a fool's last word in a high        
priest's throat4   ,but the song of ,god
 in a ,carpenter's saw   ,could never   
hold wise men in awe4   ,and whenever   
,christ1 the bard1 would sing   ,they   
lost ,his truth in a hammer's ring4     
,the wilderness called with her silent  
lure3   ,o poet of thoughtless ,nazareth
   ,come out to me with your starry     
breath4   ,and ,his white reed yearned  
for the moon-chilled sands   ,where the 
frayed flowers cure   ,with their gypsy 
hands4   ,but ,he turned ,his face      
,from the silent place1   ,with the     
comrade stars above1   ,as we all have  
done1   ,as we all have done   ,from a  
maid we dare not love4    ,and the      
silent desert called again3   ,o poet of
 thoughtless ,nazareth1   ,come out to  
me with your fragrant breath1   ,and    
walk with me in the moon's white rain4  
,but a blind man's stick on a hollow    
stone1   ,as it slowly tapped through a 
distant city1   ,and a broken woman's   

hopeless moan   ,called out to ,him with
 a deeper tone2   ,and the heart of the 
,lord was pity4    ,and back to the town
 the poet came1   ,and took ,his feet to
 the temple's hall1   ,and heard the    
boast of a man named ,saul2   ,and ,he  
heard ,saul mock1   ,in a fiery tongue1 
,the sweetest songs which ,his heart had
 sung4   ,but ,jesus of ,nazareth1 then 
and there1   ,could scarce forbear      
,from a fond embrace1   ,knowing the    
beauty the man should wear   ,at another
 time1 in another place4    ,the critics
 were many in ,jesus' day2   ,and ,his  
songs were scorned by the caustic pen4  
,he did not write in the ,grecian way2  
,and ,he knew not how to preach or pray 
,in a way approved of men4   ,his themes
 were bad by the ,roman chart1   ,and   
,his metres all were wrong2   ,for all  
of the ,high ,priests had their art1    
,and ,he had only ,his song4    ,now few
 of the people cared to hear   ,the     
,poet blow on ,his starry reeds2   ,so  
,he took ,his gift from the soul's high 

sphere--   ,the miracle song that few   
would hear--   ,and lowered ,his power1 
,in a hopeless hour1   ,and made men    
cower   ,at ,his miracle deeds4    ,a   
miracle deed is a simple thing   ,to a  
miracle song or a miracle truth4   ,yet 
they marvelled not that a song could    
bring   ,to the veins of ,time the      
world's lost youth4   ,and two were     
gathered and sometimes three   ,to hear 
the poet of ,galilee4   ,but the mob    
swept down like leaves in a storm       
,when they heard the miracle man would  
perform4    ,and the lame men walked and
 the blind men saw2   ,and the dead men 
breathed by a strange1 new law4   ,but  
they were few to the far-flung throng   
,who saw and breathed through the poet's
 song4   ,when they sat and fed on the  
fish and bread   ,five thousand men was 
an easy count2   ,and the deed was done2
   ,but to-morrow's sun   ,will still   
bring throngs to the ,pulpit-,mount4    
,and ,i am sure that ,john or ,mary     
,cared not a whit when ,he walked the   

sea4   ,but ,i am sure that they loved  
to tarry   ,and hear the ,poet of       
,galilee4   ,and of the throng that     
around ,him pressed   ',twas ,john and  
,mary that ,he loved best4    ,and when 
the ,poet sat down1 to choose   ,the men
 to take to the world ,his news1   ,he  
sought no men who had held their dishes 
,to catch ,his gift of the loaves and   
fishes4   ,but ,he chose them out of the
 purer throngs   ,who came to hear ,his 
miracle songs4    ,and when at last ,he 
went up a ,hill1   ,to seal ,his songs  
with the seal of ,death1   ,whose were  
the hands that were raised to kill      
,this brave young poet of ,nazareth8    
,the man who thrust at ,his side ,i find
   ,was a man who saw ,him heal the     
blind4   ,and the men who fed on the    
fish and bread   ,were cheering the deed
 in the ranks behind4   ,but in a group 
which had drawn apart1   ,to pour their 
tears for ,his broken heart1   ,were the
 ones who heard   ,his miracle word4    
,if all of the miracle deeds of ,christ 

,had proven birth in a womb of lies     
,my spirit would still with ,him keep   
tryst   ,with faith as deep as the      
sun-washed skies4   ,but why should ,i  
doubt so simple a thing   ,as a miracle 
deed from a man who could sing   ,a     
miracle song that sheds its power   ,in 
a pure1 white light to the world's last 
hour4    ,the temple bells ring out     
to-day   ,and the ,pharisees pray   ,in 
their ancient way4   ,and the lips of   
the preachers love to tarry   ,on the   
virgin birth and the miracle deed2      
,but the temple bells ,i shall not heed2
   ,for ,i am going with ,john and ,mary
   ,out on the hills with the slender   
throngs   ,who love to hear the ,miracle
 ,songs4