Gentle He Came, Gentle He Went

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Yet gentle he came, gentle he went,
Born of the virgin meek and mild.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Yet gentle he preached, ‘Blessed, blessed,
Blessed be the meek and blessed be the merciful.’

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Yet gentle he stooped and spat, the dust
Now mud. Tender his healing, the blind now sees.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Yet gentle the breaking of bread, blessing of cup,
In the company of friends, though enemies.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Yet gentle he healed the pierced, bloodied ear
And to his own, ‘Put away your sword.’

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Yet gentle he came, gentle he went before
His accusers, a foolish silence he kept.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Yet gentle, arms spread open on the cross, in love
Enveloping the violent rage of a world gone mad.

Yes, yes, do go gentle into that good night.
Pelagius rages at the dying of the light.
The Light of the world goes out gentle and true.
The psalmist writes, Salvation belongs to our God.