A Hymn on the Life of Christ

From the hinge of the sun's rising

Even unto the boundary of the earth,

Let us sing Christ the prince,

Born of the Virgin Mary.

The blessed author of the world

Put on a servile body,

That, by flesh freeing flesh,

He might not lose those whom He had made.

Into the closed womb of the parent

The heavenly grace enters,

The maiden's womb carries

Secrets which it did not know.

The house of the chaste breast

Suddenly becomes the temple of God,

Untouched, knowing not man,

The Virgin brought forth a son.

The child-bearer brought forth

Him whom Gabriel had foretold,

Him whom, leaping in the mother's womb,

The enclosed John had felt.

He endured to lie on hay,

He did not abhor the manger,

And He was fed with scant milk,

He through whom not even the bird goes hungry.

The choir of the heavens rejoices,

And angels sing to God,

And openly to the shepherds is made known

The Shepherd, the creator of all.

Impious foe Herod,

Why do you fear Christ's coming?

He does not seize mortal things,

Who gives heavenly kingdoms.

The Magi went, following

The star they had seen going before;

They seek light by light;

They confess God by a gift.

The throng of mothers resounds, weeping

For their dashed little ones,

Thousands of whom the tyrant

Consecrated as a victim to Christ.

The baths of the pure flood

The heavenly lamb touched,

The sins which He had not brought,

By washing us, He took away.

By miracles He gave faith

That He had God as Father,

Healing weak bodies,

And raising up corpses.

A new kind of power!

The waters of the water-jars blush red,

And the wave, bidden to pour forth wine,

Changed its origin.

Bending the knee, the centurion prays

For the health of his little servant, The great ardor of one believing

Extinguished the fires of fevers.

Peter walks upon the waves,

Lifted up by Christ's right hand:

The path which nature had denied,

Faith prepared.

On the fourth day, now foul-smelling,

Lazarus received back life,

And, freed from the bonds of death,

Became his own survivor.

The streams of scorching blood

The touched garment stopped,

By the weeping of the suppliant who drenched it

The flowing streams of blood dry up.

Loosed in his whole body,

Bidden suddenly to rise,

With his own steps in turn

The sick man carried his little bed.

Then that Judas, the executioner,

Dared to betray the Master, He bore peace with a kiss

Which he did not have in his breast.

The truthful one is handed over to the deceitful,

The wicked man scourges the pious,

And, fixed to the cross, the innocent

Is joined to thieves.

To Christ, myrrh after the sabbath

Certain companions were bringing,

Whom the Angel addressed,

Saying that the Living One is not covered by a tomb.

Come with sweet hymns, Let us all sing hell

Made subject by Christ's triumph, Who, though sold, redeemed us.

The envy of the invidious dragon, And the mouth of the most wicked lion,

The Only-begotten of God trampled down,

And gave Himself back to the heavens.