10 FEB 2023 · "Stars at Noon" by David Middleton Throughout the dawn they vanish one by one, Those stars that still proclaim the ancient night, Screened off by blinding rays of our own sun Which brings the day's blue dome of air and light. And in that dome the mind has come to know Each creature made and stationed in its place By Him who left us shepherds long ago Of all His meadowlands of time and space. Magnolias holding huge white blooming moons, Pelicans scooping minnows from the tides, Sunflowers climbing high in cloudless noons Or bowing while the twilight still abides: Such palpable abstractions as they fare - The gleaming things, the brazen shapes ablaze - Grow holy and beholden unaware Of those galactic pastures where they graze. And when, beyond the darkness and the stars - Those primal givens riven from the One - We find the great foundation nothing mars In that First Cause who willed each brilliant sun Then deep within the heavens' stellar wells We sense a love whose overflowing glow Still claims us when we gaze toward where it dwells And matter seems no longer all we know Just as the stars at noon are ever there, Remembered and expected, though unseen, Flaring against the darkness they declare As like themselves, a part of what they mean

17 JAN 2023 · 'Eala Earendel Engla beorhtast.' I. They came three Kings who rode apace, To Bethlem town by God's good grace: Hail Earendel, Brightest of Angels! Pardie! It was a duteous thing, Wise men to worship childë King: Godlight be with us, Hail Earendel! II. They gave Him gifts of far-brought things, Of Recells, Myrrh, and Gold of Kings. Hail Earendel, Brightest of Angels! And setten there in strawy tent, Their mystic signs of Orient: Godlight be with us, Hail Earendel! III. The Gold and Frankincense and Myrrh For King, for Priest, for digne Martyr. Hail Earendel, Brightest of Angels! Upon the great Good Friday morn Is't Crown of Gold or Crown of Thorn? Godlight be with us, Hail Earendel! IV. From Calvary's Tree the Priestly hands Are stretched in blessing o'er the lands: Hail Earendel, Brightest of Angels! In Garden tomb His tired limbs sleep. Bring Myrrh and Spices, Vigil keep: Godlight be with us, Hail Earendel! V. O hymn we then these Orient Kings, Who brought for Him their offerings: Hail Earendel, Brightest of Angels! And grant in Holy Mystery Ourselves His Sacrifice may be. Godlight be with us, Hail Earendel! Poem by Charles William Stubbs (1845 - 1912), Dean of Ely. A charming example of Victorian medievalism. It is a poem for Epiphany, on which the Western Church commemorates not the Baptism of Christ, as we in the Eastern Church do, but rather the visit of the Magi. "Earendel" is a somewhat mysterious Anglo-Saxon word. In this poem it signifies the Star of Bethlehem (which the poet, along with Blessed Theophylact and the patristic consensus, identifies as an angel, not an astronomical phenomenon). It can also mean the morning star or Christ Himself under His appellation as the Morning Star. You can read the poem, along with a learned discussion, at aclerkofoxford.blogspot.com. Dr. Eleanor Parker of Brasenose College, Oxford, stopped posting at this, her most excellent blog, in January of 2021 (this Earendel poem discussion was her last post), but the archives provide a delightful trove of intelligent and, in the main, pious reflections on medieval Christian English literature. In a personal note, Dr. Parker recently (January of 2023) assured me that she has not decided never to post again on the blog; other activities have simply intervened.