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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8bb834d --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #67022 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67022) diff --git a/old/67022-0.txt b/old/67022-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index c12f06f..0000000 --- a/old/67022-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2384 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Lyrics & Legends at Christmas-Tide, by -Clinton Scollard - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Lyrics & Legends at Christmas-Tide - -Author: Clinton Scollard - -Release Date: December 28, 2021 [eBook #67022] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Tim Lindell, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was - produced from images made available by the HathiTrust - Digital Library.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LYRICS & LEGENDS AT -CHRISTMAS-TIDE *** - - - - - - _Lyrics & Legends of Christmas-Tide_ - - - - - _SECOND EDITION ENLARGED_ - - - - - _Lyrics & Legends - of Christmas-Tide_ - - _CLINTON SCOLLARD_ - - [Illustration: colophon] - - CLINTON, NEW YORK: - GEORGE WILLIAM BROWNING - M DCCCC VI - - - _Copyrighted 1904 by Clinton Scollard_ - - - First Edition, October, 1904 - Second Edition, enlarged, December, 1905 - - - - -CONTENTS - - -A Bell 7 - -Christmas Elves 8 - -The Christmas Angel 9 - -Nazareth Town 11 - -A Christmas Masque 13 - -A Song for Christmas Morning 15 - -The Christmas Minstrels 16 - -Twelfth Night Song 17 - -Yule at Thengelfor 18 - -A Yule-Tide Carol 21 - -Ballad of the Eve of Yule 22 - -The Hanging of the Holly 25 - -The Maid of Bethlehem 26 - -The Christmas Almsman 28 - -The Bells of Christmas 30 - -Christmas Ingle Song 31 - -Neil MacDonald 32 - -The Star of Bethlehem 34 - -Pierol’s Christmas 35 - -Song for the Eve of Yule 37 - -The Three Kings 38 - -The Wise Men 40 - -A Yule Song 42 - -The Christmas Hunter 43 - -A Christmas Song 45 - -A Lover to His Rhyme 46 - -The Christmas Pilgrimage 47 - -The Yule-Log 50 - -Ballad of the Christmas Tryst 51 - -A Knight’s Christmas 55 - -The White Ladye 56 - -The Wizard People 57 - -Holly Song 59 - -Gennesar 60 - -Firelight 61 - -Mother of Pearl 62 - -The Bells of Ardo 63 - -In the Age of the Year 65 - -A Lover’s Christmas 66 - -Ballad of Kirkland Hills 67 - -The Closed Room 69 - -Under the Holly Bough 70 - -Cosette’s Christmas 72 - -Pilgrims 76 - - - - -_Lyrics & Legends of Christmas-Tide_ - - - - -A Bell - - - Had I the power - To cast a bell that should from some grand tower, - At the first Christmas hour, - Out-ring, - And fling - A jubilant message wide, - The forgèd metals should be thus allied;-- - No iron Pride, - But soft Humility and rich-veined Hope - Cleft from a sunny slope, - And there should be - White Charity, - And silvery Love, that knows nor Doubt nor Fear, - To make the peal more clear; - And then, to firmly fix the fine alloy, - There should be Joy! - - - - -Christmas Elves - - - If you walk on Christmas eve, - And the moon doth shine aright, - You will see them weave,-- - Nimble gnome, and fay and sprite,-- - Devious dances in the lustrous lunar light. - - Round and round the holly bole - Will they dart and glide and spring; - And a tripping troll - Will they in a chorus sing; - Threading now in broken, now in linkèd ring. - - _Berry bright, berry bright, - Be the love about your hearth! - Leafy green, leafy green, - Be perennial your mirth! - Sturdy as a holly bole be your footing of the earth!_ - - These white spirits of old Yule, - Happy you who hear their tune! - Joy with you shall rule, - Life for you shall be a boon - Round the year through all the watches of the moon! - - - - -The Christmas Angel - - - In middle heaven a form behold; - Fair-aureoled - Her shapely brow with noon-bright gold; - _Soli Deo Gloria!_ - - Upon a little cloud she stands, - Within her hands - A tympanum with scarlet bands; - _Soli Deo Gloria!_ - - Thereon she playeth without fault, - While up the vault - Her voice makes silvery assault-- - _Soli Deo Gloria!_ - - Till, blended with her soaring notes, - Adown there floats - An echo from a myriad throats-- - _Soli Deo Gloria!_ - - An angel she of God’s own choir, - Whose one desire - Is higher yet to chant, and higher-- - _Soli Deo Gloria!_ - - And every year, upon the morn - When Christ was born - Within the manger-bed forlorn-- - _Soli Deo Gloria!_ - - ’Tis hers to bid song’s raptures run - From sun to sun, - And list to earth’s low antiphon-- - _Soli Deo Gloria!_ - - Would that our praise might swell and rise - Along the skies, - And scale the gates of Paradise-- - _Soli Deo Gloria!_ - - Bearing, with more complete accord, - Unto the Lord,-- - Forevermore our watch and ward,-- - _Soli Deo Gloria!_ - - - - -Nazareth Town - - - Nazareth town in Galilee! - Set where the paths lead up from the sea - That like the chords of a mighty lyre - Dirges over the rocks of Tyre, - Mourns where the piers of Sidon shone, - And the battlements cinctured Ascalon. - They have waned as the sunset wanes; - Little more than a name remains; - But more than a name we hold it,--we,-- - Nazareth town in Galilee! - - Nazareth town in Galilee! - Ah, what a golden harmony - The dawn seems, flooding its bright white walls! - And, when the violet twilight falls, - What a vast processional of stars - Pageants over its stilled bazaars! - And when the full moon touches the height - Of Tabor, a torch of brilliant light, - Never was sight more fair to see;-- - Nazareth town in Galilee! - - Nazareth town in Galilee! - Strumming a desert melody, - The Bedouin minstrel trolls in the street; - At the Well of the Virgin the maidens meet; - The cactus-hedges crimson to flower, - And the olives silver hour by hour - As through their branches the south wind steals; - A clear bell peals, and a vulture wheels - Over the crest where the wild crags be;-- - Nazareth town in Galilee! - - Nazareth town in Galilee! - At the sound of the words how memory - Kindles as earth does under the spring, - Till the dead days rise for our visioning; - And out of them one compassionate face - Beams with a more than mortal grace; - Out of them one inspiring voice - Cries in the ears of the world “rejoice!” - And ever a beacon of hope shall be - Nazareth town in Galilee! - - - - -A Christmas Masque - - -FIRST KING - - I am the monarch Melchior, - Mighty alike in peace and war. - - -SECOND KING - - I am the sovereign Balthasar; - A myriad fold my liegemen are. - - -THIRD KING - - The royal ruler Jasper, I, - Lord of a spacious empery. - - -FIRST KING - - Yet do I seek a little child,-- - - -SECOND KING - - A tiny nursling undefiled; - - -THIRD KING - - And I am one likewise beguiled. - - -FIRST KING - - To Him whose coming stars foretold,-- - A babe divine in mortal mould,-- - I bear this goodly gift of gold. - - -SECOND KING - - To Him whose life shall ease the sting - Of mankind’s weary travailing, - This fragrant frankincense I bring. - - -THIRD KING - - To Him whose loving words shall stir - To aspirations holier, - My offering is this precious myrrh. - - -ALL - - Piercing the mists of time, we see - The cruel cross, the agony, - And, whelmed with pity, bend the knee. - - Piercing the mists of time, we gaze - Adown the future’s opening ways, - And hear the swelling prayer and praise. - - Piercing the mists of time, we hail - The day when woe and sin shall fail, - And over all His love prevail. - - - - -A Song for Christmas Morning - - - O wear for garment mirth - Upon the soul, - As all the fields of earth - Wear one white stole! - A dream of things long gone - Let sorrow be: - Turn thou thine eyes on dawn, - Thy heart on glee! - - What wonder everywhere - Above, abroad! - The amplitudes of air - Abrim with God. - His presence shining through - The risen sun, - And in the bending blue - His benison. - - Into the gulfs of gloom - Go death and night; - Behold around thee bloom - Glad life and light! - The veil of darkness drawn, - Thy vision free, - Turn thou thy soul on dawn, - Exultingly! - - - - -The Christmas Minstrels - - - Now that the joy-day of the year is nearing, - In that fair sun-land set ’twixt sea and sea, - From hill and mountain dale behold appearing - With jocund strains a minstrel company. - - The reeds that shepherds played in eras olden, - These are the tuneful pipes whereon they blow; - The sky that over-arches is the golden, - The bright Calabrian sky of long ago. - - And since the decades of the saints and sages, - When here to Christ was first raised prayerful praise, - These minstrel men through all the echoing ages - Have heralded the hallowed Christmas days. - - From lonely shrines on steep and stony byways - Their clear wild music up the pathway soars; - It gushes like a fount on traveled highways, - And through the populous piazza pours. - - They cling to their old ways, these simple-hearted - And humble dwellers on the uplands high; - Their notes, an echo of the days departed, - Span gulfs of time, and bring the dead years nigh. - - Long may the cool Calabrian laurel alleys - Hearken the strains, in rarer ether born, - Of minstrels wending down the mountain valleys - To greet the coming of the Christmas morn! - - - - -Twelfth Night Song - - - Heaped be the fagots high, - And the half-burnèd bough - From last year’s revelry - Be litten now! - Brimmed be the posset bowl - For every lusty soul; - And while the maskers rule, - Cry ‘Noel!’ cry ‘Noel!’ down all the halls of Yule! - - O eager viols, thrill! - Pipe, hautboys, clear and sweet! - Work your impetuous will, - Ye restless feet! - For every lip--a glass! - For every lad--a lass! - And, ere the ardors cool, - Cry ‘Noel!’ cry ‘Noel!’ down all the halls of Yule! - - - - -Yule at Thengelfor - - - It was Yule at Thengelfor,-- - The sharp white tide of Yule; - And the mailèd Thanes of War, - Bred in the fiery school - Of the devotees of Thor, - Flung into the council-hall - With sneer and clamorous call - At the calm-browed Thanes of Peace - Who worshiped without cease,-- - Bending in prayer the knee - To the One of Galilee - Who died, as they said, for all. - - Each man stood in his place - That sharp white noon of Yule, - And the War-Thanes hooted “fool,” - And “coward” and “craven knave;” - And they flashed, each one, a glaive - In every Peace-Thane’s face. - But the Peace-Thanes were not cowed, - Smiling their quiet smile - At the flaunts and threats and jeers - Roaring about their ears; - And they held them poised and proud, - Till, after a breathing while, - The tumult died like the sea - Subsiding sullenly - Around the breast of an isle - Set at the last fiord’s verge, - Fronting the western surge. - - Then into the council-hall - Where Peace confronted War,-- - Where Christ confronted Thor,-- - Dauntless, willowy, tall, - Came a maid of Thengelfor,-- - The Princess. Ah, how fair - Was the sunrise sheen of her hair, - More wondrous to behold - Than her coronet of gold! - And she paused between them there, - As white as the Yule was white, - Till a hush fell on the air - Like the hush of the middle night. - And she said, “What stand ye for?” - To the mailèd Thanes of War; - And they shouted shrill, “For Thor, - And the kingdom’s olden might!” - Then she turned her, level-eyed, - To the Peace-Thanes. “Ye?” she cried; - As in one voice they replied, - “For Christ, and the rule of right!” - - “Thor and the war and might!” - Thus she mused for a space; - “Christ and peace and the right!” - And a glory mantled her face. - “Better the right than might, - Ye valiant Thanes of War! - Blood now the Yule is white? - Nay, ’twere a grievous sight!-- - Better the Christ than Thor!” - - And ever and evermore - By the Baltic’s rugged shore, - In the halls of Thengelfor, - Right not might is the rule, - The Christ and not sanguine Thor - At the sharp white tide of Yule! - - - - -A Yule-Tide Carol - - - O lightly lift thy finger, - Thou loving lutanist, - And let around us linger - Thy music’s mellow mist! - Aye, let the strain beat faster - In captivating time, - And mirth shall be our master - Until the midnight chime! - - Noel!--hang high the holly - While leaps the Yule-log’s light; - We’ll drive gray Melancholy - Abroad into the night! - - With silvery touch and tingle, - Like brooks ’twixt sunny swards, - Each soaring voice shall mingle - And marry with the chords; - So shall the liquid laughter - Of mirth and music rule, - Till rings the roof-tree’s rafter - With revelries of Yule. - - Noel!--hang high the holly, - And twine the ivy-tod; - My merries, we’ll be jolly, - And spurn care like a clod! - - - - -Ballad of the Eve of Yule - - - It was hard on the tide of Yule, - And the wind bit shrewd and sharp, - Churning the river pool, - And turning the deep-wood boughs, - That were wont to droop and drowse, - To the moaning strings of a harp. - - A snow-threat gloomed the sky, - And with iterant, raucous caw - A bevy of rooks went by, - Each a seeming thing - Of evil, ominous wing - Flapping adown the flaw. - - Then night fell over the fen, - And he mused, still stumbling on, - “Out of the world of men - Into the shades I go!” - And he grimly laughed, when lo, - A light on his pathway shone! - - “Mine enemy’s tower!” he said, - As the beacon beckoned him. “Well, - Succor were likely as bread - To be had from a shard or stone, - Or meat from a wolf-gnawed bone, - Or hope in the heart of hell!” - - Yet he steered him sheer on the flare, - With a “Here or there, ’tis one! - A corpse in the morning air, - Frozen as rigid as steel, - Or a form on gibbet or wheel,-- - What matters it how ’tis done!” - - He clanged a summons clear, - Keeping his grip on hate; - And he wavered not to hear - A word from a tongue abhorred,-- - Then back swung the outer ward, - And his enemy stood in the gate. - - Eyes upon burning eyes - Hung, as when war-fires rule - Under the angry skies; - Then, ere the wrath-flame died, - “Welcome!” his enemy cried, - “For this is the eve of Yule.” - - Into the banquet-hall - He was bid as a chosen guest; - And there before them all - Did his enemy give him meat, - And bread of the finest wheat, - And golden wine of the best. - - Then was he brought to a room - Where rugs were soft on the floor, - And a fire made fair the gloom; - And, warned with a stern behest - Of the sacred rights of a guest, - A guard was set at the door. - - Through the black night-watches long - Did he wait on sleep, but when - Came the peal of the matin song - No slumber had kissed his brow; - So he girded himself, for now - The sunlight lay on the fen. - - Then once more did his foe - Proffer him drink and food; - Forth to the court below - Did his enemy lead the way, - Where, as one for a fray, - Chafing, a charger stood. - - “Hate!--it is burned into shame; - Scorn!--of myself is the scorn; - Blame!--I confess to the blame; - Vengeance is thine!” he said, - And with averted head - He rode out into the morn. - - - - -The Hanging of the Holly - - - The holly is for happiness; - Hang it, hang it high, - When the holy morn we bless - Shows its rose along the sky! - - The holly is for heartsome cheer; - Hang it, hang it high, - While the glory of the year - Lights the heights of all the sky! - - The holly is for home-side mirth; - Hang it, hang it high, - Till the dearest day of earth - Fades in shades along the sky! - - - - -The Maid of Bethlehem - - - It was a maid of Bethlehem;-- - As fair as spring was she - When first lifts up its fragile cup - The rathe anemone. - - It was a man of Bethlehem;-- - As dark of heart was he - As is night’s Stygian shadow cast - Upon the lone Dead Sea. - - He fawned where’er she set her foot, - He followed her like fate; - And when she sealed his lips with scorn, - He held a tryst with hate. - - And then, as venom through the veins, - Through Bethlehem there ran - A whispered malice in the air - That spread from man to man. - - “And shall this living lie endure?” - In rising rage, they said; - “The purging fire shall work a cure - Upon her sinful head!” - - It was the maid of Bethlehem, - In all her stainless grace, - They seized before the House of God - Within the market-place. - - It was the man of Bethlehem - Who led the throng elate - That bore her out with mocking shout - Beyond the city gate. - - Around her heaped they fagots high, - And touched the pile with flame; - “Behold!” they cried, “the wanton witch! - She expiates her shame!” - - “O sinless One of Calvary,” - Then did they hear her say, - “Prove Thou my blameless innocence - On this, Thy natal day!” - - Lo, as she spake, each fiery tongue - Leaped on her foe of foes, - The while from charred and smoking boughs - Burst rose on crimson rose! - - It was the man of Bethlehem - Who died in agony; - It was the maid of Bethlehem - Who went unharmed and free. - - - - -The Christmas Almsman - - - It was a Christmas almsman - Came to a palace door; - The flambeaux flared, the music blared, - And gleamed the waxen floor. - - “Out on thee, for a vagrant!” - A pompous porter cried; - Quick, get thee gone ere goads be drawn - To scourge thy tattered hide!” - - The mirth roared to the rafter, - With plenty groaned the board, - Yet naught they gave that almsman gaunt - Save flaunting fleer and ribald taunt, - Despite his bare and bitter want, - From all their Yule-tide hoard! - - It was a Christmas almsman - Unto a hovel came; - The walls so grim were drear and dim - With one pale candle flame. - - Yet spake the kindly hoveler - Who saw the beggar’s face: - “You’re welcome here, though lean our cheer; - Enter, and bide a space!” - - He shambled in; he crouched him down; - He ate their meagre fare; - And lo, they found, when he had sped, - A scrip of gold and jewels red! - _The hoveler had housed and fed - An angel unaware!_ - - - - -The Bells of Christmas - - - “Pilgrim, you of the loosened lachet, - What do you hear as you roam and roam?” - “Master, I list to the bells of Christmas, - The bells of Christmas, calling me home! - - “They call and call, and I fain would hasten - Back to the warmth of the old roof-tree, - To the plentiful board and the merry faces, - And the twilight prayer at the mother’s knee!” - - “Pilgrim, you of the loosened lachet, - Why, then, still do you roam and roam?” - “Master, ’twas but a dream they conjured, - The bells of Christmas, calling me home. - - “’Twas but a vision out of the distance, - Happy and holy and sweet, forsooth! - ’Twas but a vision out of the distance, - Out of the long lost vale of Youth!” - - “Pilgrim, you of the loosened lachet, - All of us have our dreams like thee, - And back are borne by the bells of Christmas - To the twilight prayer at the mother’s knee!” - - - - -Christmas Ingle Song - - - Now once more the year has run - (Sun succeeding sceptred sun) - To the time of hallowed birth, - To the holiest tide of earth; - Out with sadness! out with sin! - Let us hail the Christ-Child in! - - While we lift our thanks for thrift, - Praise the giver and the gift, - With the holly, berried bright, - Druid ivy sprays unite!-- - Long they both have sacred been; - Let us hail the Christ-Child in! - - And the back-log,--let it be - From some ancient forest tree - Great of girth, that flames may roar - Up the chimney high and hoar, - Thus to swell our merry din; - Let us hail the Christ-Child in! - - Far into the night with song - Let us the old rites prolong! - Cry, “Noel! noel! noel!” - Until peals the midnight bell! - If we peace and love would win, - Let us hail the Christ-Child in! - - - - -Neil MacDonald - - - “Whither away, O Neil MacDonald? - Whither away so fleet hie ye?” - “I have a tryst to keep, my mother, - Under the boughs of the holly tree!” - - “Go ye not, O Neil MacDonald! - Go ye not, prithee! prithee!” - “I must keep the tryst, my mother, - Under the boughs of the holly tree!” - - Into the night leaps Neil MacDonald; - Every man has a weird to dree; - He will dree his weird this Yule-tide - Under the boughs of the holly tree. - - In the north the pale auroras - Flash and waver spectrally; - But the purple shadows slumber - Under the boughs of the holly tree. - - Over the burn bounds Neil MacDonald; - Through the bracken plunges he; - He has won to the purple shadows - Under the boughs of the holly tree. - - “O my love!” cries Neil MacDonald; - “O my love! my love!” cries she; - And their lips are met together - Under the boughs of the holly tree. - - Bitter the frost upon the moor-side, - Bitter the frost, but what recks he, - With his arms about Fiorna - Under the boughs of the holly tree! - - “What is that I hear, beloved? - What is that dark shape I see?” - “You but dream, my Neil MacDonald, - Under the boughs of the holly tree.” - - “He dreams not, your Neil MacDonald, - Sister, false as the falsest be!” - Hark!--the clan-call of MacGregor - Under the boughs of the holly tree! - - Hark!--the clan-call of MacGregor!-- - Every man has a weird to dree! - He has dreed his, Neil MacDonald, - Under the boughs of the holly tree. - - - - -The Star of Bethlehem - - - Out of the past’s black night - There shines one star - Whose light - Is more than countless constellations are. - - High in the east it gleams;-- - This radiant star - Whose beams - Are more to man than all the planets are. - - Still be thy light displayed, - O Bethlehem star, - Nor fade - Until the circling systems no more are! - - - - -Pierol’s Christmas - - - Into the hall on the night of Yule - Capered the jester, blithe Pierol, - Crying merrily, “Gifts for a fool!” - Sooth, right well did he play the role, - Though the wolf of bitterness gnawed his soul! - - Proud his birth as the proudest there,-- - Count or baron or haughty knight, - But poverty was his sorry share,-- - A lonely tower on a barren height - (And a wit as bright as his purse was light). - - So under the motley he hid his name; - Under the motley he hid his heart; - But he could not hide nor he could not tame - His leaping spirit that would out-start, - Nor his face,--Endymion’s counterpart. - - “Gifts for a fool!” Troth, they loved him well,-- - Loved his beauty and blithesomeness, - Loved his quips and lyric spell - Of the songs he sang with so gay a stress, - And his head thrown back like a hawk in jess! - - So they tossed him,--this one a golden chain, - That one a bracelet, another a ring; - Till out of all of that feasting train - There was only a maid who had failed to fling - Some bauble to him,--some costly thing. - - And she,--how fair like the thorn in May - She seemed as she sat in her stainless guise!-- - As he paused in his pirouetting gay, - Caught to heart the look in his fearless eyes - That were fixed upon her in yearning wise; - - And raising a hand,--ne’er was shapelier - By prince or paladin won, I wis, - In the shock of the lists, or the silken stir - Of the courts of Love who is queen of bliss!-- - She cast him the honeyed boon of a kiss. - - “Gifts--for a--fool!” far, fainter the cry - Drooped in the distance to quaver and shift, - A moment to linger, and then to die. - Of all that meed of a jester’s thrift - Which to Pierol was the dearest gift? - - - - -Song for the Eve of Yule - - - Here’s a fig for Melancholy, - Now the year is at the Yule! - Welcome Fun and welcome Folly! - Welcome anything that’s jolly! - What say you, sweet Mistress Molly, - Shall not Love and Laughter rule? - - Come and close about the ingle - While the caverned chimney roars! - Song and merriment shall mingle - Till the very rafters tingle; - Then shall sound the jangle-jingle - Of the sleigh-bells at the doors! - - Out upon all frowning faces! - Out upon the ghost of Gloom! - In with games and glees and graces! - Loose (for once) smug Custom’s traces; - Put old Momus through his paces! - Give the merry maskers room! - - Aye, a fig for Melancholy! - Garland Love, let Laughter rule! - Hail to Fun and hail to Folly! - Hail the jovial and the jolly! - Shall we not, sweet Mistress Molly, - Now the year is at the Yule! - - - - -The Three Kings - - - Came those monarchs, grave and hoar, - With their gifts, a goodly store, - Gold and frankincense and myrrh, - On that holy night of yore,-- - - Ator, Sator, Sarasin, - In their hallowed purpose kin, - Following the guiding star, - Each a sacred goal to win. - - Did they bear their offerings, - Such a wealth of precious things, - Unto one of princely place, - Sprung, like them, from earthly kings? - - Nay, but to an infant born - In a lowly spot forlorn - Yet around whose glorious face - Shone a halo like the morn! - - For a spirit unto each - Spake in no uncertain speech, - Saying, “In a manger lies - One who God to man shall teach; - One who shall the night o’erthrow, - Bearing heaven with Him below,-- - Love that triumphs over hate, - Peace and joy that conquer woe.” - - So those monarchs, men of fame, - Bowed before Him, blessed His name, - Laid their offerings at His feet, - Passed as swiftly as they came. - - Stretch the years, a checkered chart, - Since they played their deathless part, - Yet to-day may we, like them, - Giving, hold the Christ at heart. - - - - -The Wise Men - - - The Wise Men wander across the wold, - (O the Star in the sky!) - Bearing their goodly gifts of gold. - (How the low wind whispereth by! - Whispereth - Of birth, not death, - With joy in its lifted cry!) - - The Wise Men come unto Bethlehem; - (O the Star in the sky!) - A star is the beacon that guideth them. - (How the soft wind hasteneth by! - Hasteneth - The while it saith, - “O the Light of the World is nigh!”) - - The Wise Men kneel at the infant’s feet, - (O the Star in the sky!) - And the loving mother smileth sweet. - (While the wind it hurrieth by,-- - Hurrieth - As it gladly saith, - “O the Hope of the World is high!”) - - The Wise Men rise, and they go their ways; - (O the Star in the sky!) - And all this happened in the ancient days. - (But the wind still gladdeneth by,-- - Gladdeneth - At the death of Death, - That Life hath the victory!) - - - - -A Yule Song - - - Who cries ’tis folly to wreathe the bright holly? - Who is it scoffs at the mistletoe bough? - Marry, then, out on him! marry, then, flout on him! - If there’s a time to be jolly, ’tis now! - - Berry-tide, cherry-tide, each is a merry tide, - And there’s charm in the nutting, I vow! - But none surpasses,--how say you, my lasses?-- - The time for up-hanging the mistletoe bough! - - Reason,--away with it! Men have grown gray with it, - Pondering why and considering how; - We have no part in it,--nay, and no heart in it!-- - Under the droop of the mistletoe bough! - - So, lads, your choices all! Lift, maids, your voices all! - Love levels prince with the man at the plough. - We’ll make our boast of it, we’ll make our toast of it,-- - Ne’er may it wither, the mistletoe bough! - - - - -The Christmas Hunter - - - With blare of horn and holloa, - Who is it forth doth fare? - It is the Christmas Hunter - Who rides adown the air. - - Upon his wild steed, Sleipnir, - He storms across the sky; - And like the moan of ocean - His vanguard surges by. - - They are the Judas-hearted,-- - They are the souls of them - That spurned God’s own anointed, - The Man of Bethlehem. - - For them nor peace nor joyance - At this high tide of Yule, - Since they are doomed to follow - The Hunter’s iron rule. - - Rage fills his veins with riot - When peals the Christmas mirth, - For memory bears him backward - When he had power on earth. - - So mad he whirls his minions - Behind him fast and far, - Without or pause or pity, - From star to utmost star. - - The once almighty Odin - Whom Christ hurled from his height, - He is the Christmas Hunter - Who roams the voids of night. - - - - -A Christmas Song - - - O’er the wastes the crows are calling-- - _Caw! Caw!_ - In the hedges of the haw, - Sparrows with their merry clatter - Cheep and chatter,-- - _Naught’s the matter! - Marry, marry! naught’s the matter!_ - Then it’s ho! heigh-ho! - All the waking world’s aglow! - And the mirthful bells of Christmas - Ring across the snow! - - Down the garden Colin’s calling-- - _Mollie! Mollie!_ - In the thickets of the holly - Choruses the hidden starling, - Saucy darling! - _You’re behind her! - Kiss her, kiss her, when you find her!_ - Then it’s ho! heigh-ho! - Who’s for worry, who’s for woe, - When the wooing bells of Christmas - Ring across the snow? - - - - -A Lover to His Rhyme - - - Go seek her out, my rhyme, - Her of the cruel heart, - And with your softest chime, - And with your blandest art, - Plead that this merry time - May see her frowns depart. - - And whisper, ah, so low!-- - (And mark ye if she sigh!) - That sprays of mistletoe - Are plucked to hang on high, - That holly berries glow, - That Christmas-tide is nigh. - - And if ye win one smile, - O speed ye hither swift! - From eyes cast down the while - The aching gloom will lift, - And in the orchard aisle - Will flower the frozen drift. - - More I that ray will prize - Than pearls of orient birth; - ’Twill set the wintry skies - A-dazzle over earth; - And love, in lilied guise, - Will light the Christmas hearth. - - - - -The Christmas Pilgrimage - -(Bethlehem) - - - What means this waiting throng? - Whence have these weary, way-worn wanderers come? - Why rises, in strange tongues, the expectant hum, - Like that tense under-song - The joyful Jordan voices in the spring - Till Hermon hearkens, leaning grandly down, - And wearing still his shimmering snowy crown? - Soon will these murmuring lips with ardor sing, - And soon these lifted faces, wan or brown, - Glow into worship that is rapturing. - Back will be thrown the consecrated door, - And then these feet, from many a distant shore, - Be privileged to press the hallowed floor. - - Why have they come,--the hardy mountaineer - From Lebanon’s cedars and their checkered shade? - The merchant and the snowy-mantled maid - Who hold great Nilus dear? - Why have they come,--the men with restless eyes - And pallid cheeks that tell of norland skies? - Why have they come,--the Latin and the Greek? - Do pilgrims thus this sanctuary seek - Because ’twas here - For year on fiery year - The red earth drank - The deluged blood of Paynim and of Frank? - Or do they surge to see - The antique symmetry - Of springing arch and carven pillar fine, - In this old holy house of Constantine? - - Ah, no! ah, no! To them the memory - Of war is not, and monarchs play no part - In any thought that stirs an eager heart. - They have no eyes to see - A single graceful groining. What care they - If here, upon a bygone Christmas-day, - The King-crusader, Baldwin, took his crown! - Or what to them the saint of blest renown - In yonder sepulchre, now crumbling clay! - Their patient feet one precious spot would press, - Their yearning eyes would lovingly caress - The time-dulled silver star - Sunk deep within the pavement, footfall-worn: - “_Here, of the Virgin Mary, Christ was born_,” - They read, these pilgrims who have plodded far. - They read and pass and ponder. Few can see - The tiny chapel and the dim-lit shrine, - And feel no thrill, despite the mummery, - Of something more divine - Within the breast than ever pulsed before. - Then let us pilgrims be - Upon this sacred day we all adore! - Although our mortal feet touch not the floor, - Although our mortal eyes may not behold, - Our spirits may take flight, - And with immortal sight - Stand where the prayerful wise-men stood of old - In ecstasy of adoration, when - They saw the Savior of the sons of men. - - - - -The Yule-Log - - - Hale the Yule-log in! - Heap the fagots high! - With a merry din - Rouse old Revelry! - Cry “Noel! Noel!” - Till the rafters ring, - And the gleeful bell - Peals its answering! - - Brim the Christmas cup - From the wassail-bowl, - Now the flame leaps up - With its ruddy soul! - In the glowing blaze - How the dancers spin! - Deftest in the maze, - Nimble Harlequin! - - Grim Snapdragon comes - With his mimic ire, - And his feast of plums - Smothered in the fire. - O the days of mirth, - And the nights akin! - Heap the Christmas hearth; - Hale the Yule-log in! - - - - -Ballad of the Christmas Tryst - - - “It’s hey! my merry huntsman, - With hound and hawk and horn, - Where hie ye to the hunting - This crispy Christmas morn?” - - “It’s ho! mine ancient gossip, - To Wildmere wood I go, - To seek beneath the boughs of Yule - The roebuck and the roe.” - - “It’s ha! my merry huntsman, - A cunning tongue have ye; - With deer ye keep no Christmas tryst - Beneath the greenwood-tree.” - - “It’s hist! mine ancient gossip, - I prithee, speak me low, - Lest they that love me not should hear - To Wildmere wood I go.” - - “It’s list! my merry huntsman, - They wot thy coming well, - And wait thee where the pathway dips - To cross the birken dell.” - - “It’s good! mine ancient gossip, - How many may there be - Betwixt me and my Christmas tryst - Beneath the greenwood-tree?” - - “It’s hark! my merry huntsman, - There’s Bernard of the Bow, - Sir Egbert of the Crooked Arm, - And Giles of Clariveaux; - - “There’s Giles, my merry huntsman, - The wiliest of men, - Brother in blood, though black his heart, - To one whose name ye ken.” - - “Gramercy! ancient gossip, - And shall these stay my foot? - Then may the House of Hardigrave - Be withered to the root!” - - He gave his page his hound in leash, - His hawk and eke his horn, - And gaily did he onward ride - Beneath the Christmas morn. - - And now the birken dell was won, - And now the shallow ford, - And now he heard the scabbard ring - Its answer to the sword. - - And forth from out the coppice deep - Rode Bernard of the Bow, - Sir Egbert of the Crooked Arm, - And Giles of Clariveaux. - - Small parley was there then, God wot, - But bickering of steel, - And down clashed Bernard of the Bow - Beneath his charger’s heel. - - And Egbert of the Crooked Arm - Reeled sidewise as he knew - The sharp bite of a falchion’s point - His stricken harness through. - - Then clear rang out the huntsman’s shout, - Right merrily cried he, - “God’s with the son of Hardigrave - Who loves _La Belle Marie_!” - - Oh, deep cursed Giles of Clariveaux - To hear his sister’s name, - While ’neath his vizor burned his eyes - Like orbs of evil flame! - - “Have at thee, Hardigrave!” he hissed, - “This riding thou shalt rue!” - And round them like a fiery mist - The spiteful sparks outflew. - - ’Twas parry, cut and countercut, - And fiercer-faced the while - Grew treacherous Giles of Clariveaux - To mark the huntsman’s smile. - - And seeing he was sore beset, - That urgent grew his need, - He aimed a caitiff’s coward blow - To maim his foeman’s steed. - - But vain that cruel, craven thrust, - For whiles he strove to rein - The shoulder of his sword-arm - Was riven half in twain. - - * * * * * - - O starling in the thicket, see - Where, eyes with love aglow, - Adown the forest pathway goes - The rose of Clariveaux! - - And hearken, O ye holly boughs! - And, O ye larches, list! - It is the song of one who rides - To keep his Christmas tryst. - - - - -A Knight’s Christmas - - - I hear the shrilling hautboys sound, - The thrilling drums take up the din, - And through the doorway’s gaping bound - A lusty, mincing manikin - Bears, garlanded, the boar’s head in. - - The great bells clamor in the tower - Their jubilation. Down the hall - Mirth bursts into a brilliant flower - Of quip and toast and madrigal; - “Noel! Noel! Noel!” cry all. - - And yet joy seems a thing foredone - Forevermore in every place - Beneath the red rays of the sun;-- - What is Christ’s mass that wrought man grace - Without the favor of love’s face! - - - - -The White Ladye - - - “The flax upon your distaff - Is yellow as your hair, - But why, on Christmas even, - Thus spin you, maiden fair? - - “The joy-bells in the steeples - Are ringing clear and wide; - O stop the whirring spindle, - And put the flax aside!” - - “Nay, but I may not, master, - Although I weary be, - Lest through the open shutter - Should peer the White Ladye; - - “And find my treadle idle, - My flax in tangled fold, - And on the merry morrow - Forget her gift of gold. - - “For to the slothful virgin - She causeth sorrowing, - But to the thrifty maiden - A blessing she doth bring!” - - A soft touch at the shutter,-- - A face divine to see! - It is the fairy spinner, - It is the White Ladye! - - - - -The Wizard People - - - Adown the ways of winter, - Above the vasts of snow, - With woven flame their sandals shod, - Through airy wastes by paths untrod, - The wizard people go. - - By day their feats are hidden, - But night beholds their mirth, - When in the abysses of the air - Their sorceries they flaunt and flare - Above a wondering earth. - - In vain the hilltops hearken, - Their lips no sound reveal; - But ever on, from arc to arc, - Across the spangled depths of dark - Their pennons whirl and wheel. - - Why come they? Who can answer? - Whence go they? Who can tell? - Flaming and fading down the night, - A mystery, a dream-delight, - A splendor and a spell! - - Such are the wizard people, - The brethren of the pole; - And though man long has sought to gain - Their secret, suns shall wax and wane - Ere he shall read their soul! - - - - -Holly Song - - - Care is but a broken bubble, - Trill the carol, troll the catch! - Sooth we’ll cry, “A truce to trouble!” - Mirth and mistletoe shall match! - - _Happy folly! we’ll be jolly!_ - _Who’d be melancholy now?_ - _With a “Hey, the holly! ho, the holly!”_ - _Polly hangs the holly bough._ - - Laughter lurking in the eye, sir, - Pleasure foots it frisk and free; - He who frowns or looks awry, sir, - Faith, a witless wight is he! - - _Merry folly! what a volley_ - _Greets the hanging of the bough!_ - _With a “Hey, the holly! ho, the holly!”_ - _Who’d be melancholy now?_ - - - - -Gennesar - - - Bright ’neath the Syrian sun, dim ’neath the Syrian star, - Thus lieth Galilee’s sea, sapphirine lake Gennesar; - - Girdled by mountains that range purple and proud to their crests, - Bearing the burden of dreams,--glamour of eld,--on their breasts. - - Just one white glint of a sail dotting the brooding expanse; - Beaches that sparkle and gleam, ripples that darkle and dance; - - Grandeur and beauty and peace welded year-long into one, - Under the Syrian star, under the Syrian sun! - - And over all and through all memories sweet of His name - Kindling the past with their light, touching the future with flame! - - - - -Firelight - - - Whene’er at evening on the pictured wall - I watch the flickering firelight rise and fall, - From out the shifting shadow-vistas come - The forms of those who marched to martyrdom,-- - Unflinching souls no agony could tame, - A martyr wraith for every tongue of flame! - - - - -Mother-of-Pearl - - - Mother-of-pearl out of Bethlehem, - Irradiant with all rainbow lights,-- - Shimmering, shifting opal whites, - The June-time rose’s palest fire, - The sunset’s most translucent gold,-- - Delicate as a precious gem - Shaped for a lover’s heart’s desire, - Glowing as morn, yet virgin cold! - - Mother-of-pearl out of Bethlehem, - Thus I read you, bending above - Your sheen, more fair than the breast of a dove;-- - The white is the Mother without a stain; - And the blended hues, the fire and the gold, - They stand for Him who for diadem - Had a crown of thorns, and was basely slain,-- - The Son of God clad in mortal mould! - - - - -The Bells of Ardo - - - By wide gray orchards girdled, - And cloistered deep in vines, - Remote stood ancient Ardo - Amid the Apennines. - - Below her banded belfries - That loomed above the land - For weeks gaunt Plague and Famine - Had walked with linkèd hand. - - Until, when neared the Yule-tide, - On pale lips swooned the prayer, - And only sounds of wailing - Swept down the bitter air. - - No heart had any ringer - To sound the joyful bells; - The soaring campanile - Pealed naught but burial knells. - - So when the Christmas sunlight - Scattered the chill white haze - The sorely scourgèd people - Were smitten with amaze - - Hearing from San Stefano,-- - A spire and shrine forlorn,-- - A glorious jubilate - Salute the startled morn. - - Fast flocked the folk, and wonder - Swelled high that dawning hour, - For unseen hands were swinging - The bells within the tower. - - And ’twixt their rhythmic chiming, - Word upon precious word, - A vibrant voice of promise - In solemn wise was heard; - - “This day,” it cried, “my people, - The cruel curse shall cease, - And there shall fall upon you - My benison of peace!” - - When failed the silvery bell-notes - Till arch and aisle were still, - ’Twas found that all in Ardo - Were healed of every ill. - - And now, as Christmas morning - Breaks over street and square - The bells of San Stefano - Ring out upon the air; - - And still the gathered people - Lift praise with glad accord - Unto the One almighty - That was their fathers’ Lord. - - - - -In the Age of the Year - - - Is it the wizard wind - That has shriveled the quince’s rind? - Sooth, we know it was he - Who shook the leaves from the tree - And danced them out of breath - Till they wizened away in death! - Strange and subtile powers - Have rule of these ashen hours, - Binding the stricken sphere - In this, the age of the year. - - Through the crispèd grass and the husk - Rustle the feet of the Dusk; - And the only song we know - Is the back-log’s murmur low. - Then come, and sit with me - By the side of Memory - And Love, with the bluet skies - In her spring-reverting eyes, - And there shall be vernal cheer - In this, the age of the year! - - - - -A Lover’s Christmas - - - Fade the last embers in the year’s chill urn; - Ah, love, how red the holly berries burn! - - A shroud of ermine hides the meadow ways; - Ah, love, how green are still the ivy sprays! - - Black are the boughs against a sky of gray; - Ah, love, how golden is the Yule-log’s ray! - - Behind the wood the sad wind plainteth long; - Ah, love, the mirth within the mummer’s song! - - In garth and orchard naught but gloom and dearth; - Ah, love, the joy about the Christmas hearth! - - Winter’s white woe, its bitter sting and smart-- - Ah, love, the love aye vernal, in the heart! - - - - -Ballad of Kirkland Hills - - - The grand old hills of Kirkland - Stood up against the morn, - As o’er a rutty road there strode - A pilgrim lean and lorn. - - The wood-crowned hills of Kirkland, - They notched the wan blue sky, - As toward that plodding pilgrim came - A horseman urging by. - - “I prithee, weary pilgrim, - Now whither dost thou roam?” - “I seek a gabled farmstead set - Amid these hills of home; - - “I seek an ancient rooftree set - Amid these uplands white.” - “God give thee luck,” the horseman cried, - “Before this Christmas night!” - - The kindly hills of Kirkland, - They saw, when broad noon shone - Above the fair Oriska vale, - This pilgrim toiling on. - - The hemlocks preened their night-dark plumes - As up and up he clomb; - The same old rook-calls welcomed him - Back to the hills of home. - - High on the hills of Kirkland - Where hale the north-wind roared, - O gay were they that grouped about - The heapèd Christmas board! - - And yet the brooding mother, - With smiles she hid the tear - For one whose lips she had not kissed - This many a lonely year; - - For one whose wander-lust had led - His roving spirit far, - Until she dreamed he slept beneath - The clear Alaskan star. - - Hark, at the door a summons! - A step upon the sill! - O mother-eyes abrim with joy, - And mother-heart athrill! - - And O ye hills of Kirkland, - In wintry white and gray, - A gladder sight ye never saw - On any Christmas day! - - - - -The Closed Room - - - In the marvelous house of life - Each year is a closèd room; - It is filled with peace and strife, - It is packed with glow and gloom. - - There are hopes in the hues of dream, - There are cares in their grim array, - There are pleasures that glint and gleam, - And sorrows in drugget gray. - - For some, with his infinite grace, - Love waits when the portal jars; - For some, with his sphinx-like face, - Death stands when the door unbars. - - Some back from the threshold shrink, - As loath from the past to part; - But the most plunge over the brink - With never a fear at heart. - - Then silent closes the door - At the sound of the last old chime, - And the key--Forevermore-- - Is turned by the keeper--Time! - - - - -Under the Holly Bough - - - When the hale year laughed in the prime of May, - And each path was a lure to the truant eye, - When the south-wind sang: “Come away! Come away!” - (Ah, but the blue of a vernal sky!) - When the vireo’s voice was a lyric cry, - ’Twas the bloom o’ the apple beckoned us; now - When we meet, my sweet, for the trysting, why, - ’Tis under the green of the holly bough! - - When the meadows swooned in the dazzling day, - And the hilltops seemed in a dream to lie, - When shrill was the locust’s roundelay, - (Ah, but the glow of a summer sky!) - When the stream-song sank to a rippling sigh, - ’Twas the pleach o’ the elm-leaves beckoned us; now - When we meet, my sweet, for the trysting, why, - ’Tis under the green of the holly bough! - - When the woodland gleamed like a prismy ray, - And the distance drowsed in a golden dye, - When vineyard and orchard aisles were gay - (Ah, but the depths of an autumn sky!) - With stains like a web of Tyrian ply, - ’Twas the flame o’ the maple beckoned us; now - When we meet, my sweet, for the trysting, why, - ’Tis under the green of the holly bough! - - -ENVOY - - - Spring, summer and autumn have all sped by, - (Ah, but the chill of a winter sky!) - Yet love still calls to the tryst, and now - ’Tis under the green of the holly bough! - - - - -Cosette’s Christmas - - - Cosette they called her; Cosette, that was all; - Fragile she was and flower-like, slim and tall - For her eleven years, wherein her heart - Had known but little save the world’s sharp smart. - Never her ear had heard a mother’s croon; - Never for her, about the break of June, - Had been outstretched a father’s shielding hand - To guide her woodward through the smiling land. - The streets oppressed her with their cruel roar; - The birds she saw above her dart and soar, - Theirs was the life she longed for, not to be - Mewed within walls that were a gloom to see, - And stung with taunts from a virago tongue - That aged her spirit yearning to be young. - Foundling,--a fate that brooked of no appeal - Was hers by some inexorable seal. - - Backward and forward oft she went and came - From the grim spot, that was but home in name, - On casual errandry. It chanced one day, - As she passed swiftly on her timid way, - (’Twas near the season of the Christ-child’s birth, - The happy tide of peace and love on earth) - A heedless hand struck from her feeble grasp - The glass she strove so carefully to clasp, - And she beheld it, with a plaintive cry, - Shattered before her on the pavement lie. - The throng swept by, and caught her in its swirl; - There was no lip to soothe the sobbing girl, - No kindliness to aid her. A great fear - Clutched at her breast; she knew the stabbing jeer, - The pitiless blows that waited her when she - Told the ill outcome of her errandry. - Then through her brain there flashed a sudden word - That in the hive-like purlieus she had heard, - And filled her mind with sunshine. No affright - Touched her with chill at thought of death’s dim night, - For she recalled how once the preacher said - That in white lily-gardens walk the dead. - So in she stole at the accustomed door, - Sought out a room upon the lower floor - Wherein the porter, sullen-visaged, slept; - Toward a remembered drawer on tiptoe crept, - Plucked, undetected, thence a shining thing, - And gained again the street in triumphing. - A ringing shot, a little piteous moan, - And a child’s blood encrimsoning the stone! - When Cosette oped her heavy-lidded eyes, - Wonder assailed her, and a great surmise. - Was this the lily-land of her delight? - It shone so bare, and yet so very white! - Long stainless walls and little cots in rows, - And one whose smile invited to repose; - She drowsed, her mind still dwelling on that face, - And dreamed she’d found the angels’ sleeping-place. - And when, next day, they told her where she lay, - A tiny tear-drop found its mournful way - Adown the death-like pallor of her cheek; - She closed her eyes and sighed, but did not speak. - - Dawn followed dawn, and still the little one - Went not to that dim bourn beyond the sun, - But ever seemed about to pass thereto; - Nearer and nearer now the Yule-tide drew, - And to the hospital one morn there strayed - A kindly man who made the news his trade, - And learned the piteous story of the maid. - “Cosette,” he said, with a strange catch of tone, - His sight grown dim, remembering his own, - “Have you no wish?” and she, with him at ease, - Cried,--“Two red roses and an orange, please!” - - _Just two red roses and an orange!_ So - He wrote next day that all the town might know; - Then Christmas morning broke above the snow. - The morn of Christmas broke; bell spoke to bell - The loving message of “good-will” to tell; - The postmen bustled on their burdened round; - And happy greetings rang with cordial sound. - Then, at the hospital, a summons came, - Another and another, and the name - The answering nurse with every message met - Was still “Cosette,” and evermore “Cosette,” - For all had read the story of the child. - Roses upon her bed were strewn and piled, - And breathed their June about her everywhere, - Gleamed on the table, glistened on the chair, - From the soft loveliness of the pale tea-rose - To the deep splendor of the Jacqueminots. - And oranges! forsooth, it was as though - The palm-set lands where the long trade-winds blow, - Fair Florida and the Lucayan shores, - Had here unbosomed their most precious stores! - Both rich and poor had sought to ease the smart - Of her whose tale had touched the city’s heart. - And she--Cosette--through kindness’ golden dower, - Smiled upon life, and mended from that hour. - - - - -Pilgrims - - - Their path who shall unravel, - Their purpose who unroll? - From out the past they travel, - The future is their goal. - - Theirs are the forward faces, - The spring’s Arcadian airs; - The old eternal graces - Of youngling Time are theirs. - - Or gold the sky or ashen, - There broods within their breast - The sleepless pilgrim passion, - The sweet divine unrest. - - They neither flag nor falter, - They tarry not nor tire; - Their aim they will not alter - Although a king desire. - - They fear nor frost nor fever, - Nor fire nor famine they; - They follow Fate, the weaver, - For ever and a day. - - Now tell their eyes the story - Of more than mortal tears, - Now gleam with starry glory, - The passing pilgrim Years. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LYRICS & LEGENDS AT -CHRISTMAS-TIDE *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Lyrics & Legends at Christmas-Tide</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Clinton Scollard</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December 28, 2021 [eBook #67022]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Tim Lindell, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LYRICS & LEGENDS AT CHRISTMAS-TIDE ***</div> -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="cb"><i>Lyrics & Legends of Christmas-Tide</i></p> - -<div class="cb"> -<a href="images/cover.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="500" alt="[The -image of the book's cover is unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1">{1}</a></span>  </p> - -<p class="cb"><i>SECOND EDITION ENLARGED</i></p> - -<h1> -<i>Lyrics & Legends<br /> -of Christmas-Tide</i></h1> - -<p class="cb"> -<span class="smcap"><span class="big"><i>Clinton Scollard</i></span></span><br /> -<br /> -<img src="images/colophon.png" -width="150" -alt="" /> -<br /> -<br /> -<span class="smcap">Clinton, New York:<br /> -George William Browning</span><br /> -M DCCCC VI<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2">{2}</a></span><br /> -<br /> -<i>Copyrighted 1904 by Clinton Scollard</i><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -First Edition, October, 1904<br /> -Second Edition, enlarged, December, 1905<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span>  </p> - -<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table> -<tr><td><a href="#A_BELL">A Bell</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_7">7</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#CHRISTMAS_ELVES">Christmas Elves</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_8">8</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_CHRISTMAS_ANGEL">The Christmas Angel</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_9">9</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#NAZARETH_TOWN">Nazareth Town</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_11">11</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#A_CHRISTMAS_MASQUE">A Christmas Masque</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_13">13</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#A_SONG_FOR_CHRISTMAS_MORNING">A Song for Christmas Morning</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_15">15</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_CHRISTMAS_MINSTRELS">The Christmas Minstrels</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_16">16</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#TWELFTH_NIGHT_SONG">Twelfth Night Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_17">17</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#YULE_AT_THENGELFOR">Yule at Thengelfor</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_18">18</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#A_YULE-TIDE_CAROL">A Yule-Tide Carol</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_21">21</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#BALLAD_OF_THE_EVE_OF_YULE">Ballad of the Eve of Yule</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_22">22</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_HANGING_OF_THE_HOLLY">The Hanging of the Holly</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_25">25</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_MAID_OF_BETHLEHEM">The Maid of Bethlehem</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_26">26</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_CHRISTMAS_ALMSMAN">The Christmas Almsman</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_28">28</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_BELLS_OF_CHRISTMAS">The Bells of Christmas</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_30">30</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#CHRISTMAS_INGLE_SONG">Christmas Ingle Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_31">31</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#NEIL_MACDONALD">Neil MacDonald</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_32">32</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_STAR_OF_BETHLEHEM">The Star of Bethlehem</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_34">34</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#PIEROLS_CHRISTMAS">Pierol’s Christmas</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_35">35</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#SONG_FOR_THE_EVE_OF_YULE">Song for the Eve of Yule</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_37">37</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_THREE_KINGS">The Three Kings</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_38">38</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_WISE_MEN">The Wise Men</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_40">40</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#A_YULE_SONG">A Yule Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_42">42</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_CHRISTMAS_HUNTER">The Christmas Hunter</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_43">43</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#A_CHRISTMAS_SONG">A Christmas Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_45">45</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#A_LOVER_TO_HIS_RHYME">A Lover to His Rhyme</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_46">46</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_CHRISTMAS_PILGRIMAGE">The Christmas Pilgrimage</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_47">47</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_YULE-LOG">The Yule-Log</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_50">50</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#BALLAD_OF_THE_CHRISTMAS_TRYST">Ballad of the Christmas Tryst</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_51">51</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#A_KNIGHTS_CHRISTMAS">A Knight’s Christmas</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_55">55</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_WHITE_LADYE">The White Ladye</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_56">56</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_WIZARD_PEOPLE">The Wizard People</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_57">57</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#HOLLY_SONG">Holly Song</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_59">59</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#GENNESAR">Gennesar</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_60">60</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#FIRELIGHT">Firelight</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_61">61</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#MOTHER-OF-PEARL">Mother of Pearl</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_62">62</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_BELLS_OF_ARDO">The Bells of Ardo</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_63">63</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#IN_THE_AGE_OF_THE_YEAR">In the Age of the Year</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_65">65</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#A_LOVERS_CHRISTMAS">A Lover’s Christmas</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_66">66</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#BALLAD_OF_KIRKLAND_HILLS">Ballad of Kirkland Hills</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_67">67</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#THE_CLOSED_ROOM">The Closed Room</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_69">69</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#UNDER_THE_HOLLY_BOUGH">Under the Holly Bough</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_70">70</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#COSETTES_CHRISTMAS">Cosette’s Christmas</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_72">72</a></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#PILGRIMS">Pilgrims</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_76">76</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span>  </p> - -<h1><i>Lyrics & Legends of Christmas-Tide</i></h1> - -<h2><a name="A_BELL" id="A_BELL"></a>A Bell</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Had I the power<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To cast a bell that should from some grand tower,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the first Christmas hour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out-ring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fling<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A jubilant message wide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The forgèd metals should be thus allied;—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No iron Pride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But soft Humility and rich-veined Hope<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cleft from a sunny slope,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there should be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">White Charity,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And silvery Love, that knows nor Doubt nor Fear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To make the peal more clear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then, to firmly fix the fine alloy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There should be Joy!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="CHRISTMAS_ELVES" id="CHRISTMAS_ELVES"></a>Christmas Elves</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If you walk on Christmas eve,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the moon doth shine aright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You will see them weave,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nimble gnome, and fay and sprite,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Devious dances in the lustrous lunar light.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Round and round the holly bole<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Will they dart and glide and spring;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a tripping troll<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Will they in a chorus sing;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Threading now in broken, now in linkèd ring.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Berry bright, berry bright,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>Be the love about your hearth!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Leafy green, leafy green,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>Be perennial your mirth!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>Sturdy as a holly bole be your footing of the earth!</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">These white spirits of old Yule,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Happy you who hear their tune!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Joy with you shall rule,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Life for you shall be a boon<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Round the year through all the watches of the moon!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_CHRISTMAS_ANGEL" id="THE_CHRISTMAS_ANGEL"></a>The Christmas Angel</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In middle heaven a form behold;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fair-aureoled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her shapely brow with noon-bright gold;<br /></span> -<span class="i8"><i>Soli Deo Gloria!</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Upon a little cloud she stands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Within her hands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A tympanum with scarlet bands;<br /></span> -<span class="i8"><i>Soli Deo Gloria!</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thereon she playeth without fault,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While up the vault<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her voice makes silvery assault—<br /></span> -<span class="i8"><i>Soli Deo Gloria!</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Till, blended with her soaring notes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Adown there floats<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An echo from a myriad throats—<br /></span> -<span class="i8"><i>Soli Deo Gloria!</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An angel she of God’s own choir,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose one desire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is higher yet to chant, and higher—<br /></span> -<span class="i8"><i>Soli Deo Gloria!</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And every year, upon the morn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When Christ was born<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Within the manger-bed forlorn—<br /></span> -<span class="i8"><i>Soli Deo Gloria!</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Tis hers to bid song’s raptures run<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From sun to sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And list to earth’s low antiphon—<br /></span> -<span class="i8"><i>Soli Deo Gloria!</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Would that our praise might swell and rise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Along the skies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And scale the gates of Paradise—<br /></span> -<span class="i8"><i>Soli Deo Gloria!</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Bearing, with more complete accord,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unto the Lord,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forevermore our watch and ward,—<br /></span> -<span class="i8"><i>Soli Deo Gloria!</i><br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="NAZARETH_TOWN" id="NAZARETH_TOWN"></a>Nazareth Town</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nazareth town in Galilee!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Set where the paths lead up from the sea<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That like the chords of a mighty lyre<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dirges over the rocks of Tyre,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mourns where the piers of Sidon shone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the battlements cinctured Ascalon.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They have waned as the sunset wanes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Little more than a name remains;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But more than a name we hold it,—we,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nazareth town in Galilee!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nazareth town in Galilee!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah, what a golden harmony<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dawn seems, flooding its bright white walls!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, when the violet twilight falls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What a vast processional of stars<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pageants over its stilled bazaars!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when the full moon touches the height<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of Tabor, a torch of brilliant light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never was sight more fair to see;—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nazareth town in Galilee!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nazareth town in Galilee!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Strumming a desert melody,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Bedouin minstrel trolls in the street;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the Well of the Virgin the maidens meet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The cactus-hedges crimson to flower,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the olives silver hour by hour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As through their branches the south wind steals;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A clear bell peals, and a vulture wheels<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over the crest where the wild crags be;—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nazareth town in Galilee!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nazareth town in Galilee!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the sound of the words how memory<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Kindles as earth does under the spring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till the dead days rise for our visioning;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And out of them one compassionate face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beams with a more than mortal grace;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out of them one inspiring voice<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cries in the ears of the world “rejoice!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ever a beacon of hope shall be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nazareth town in Galilee!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_CHRISTMAS_MASQUE" id="A_CHRISTMAS_MASQUE"></a>A Christmas Masque</h2> - -<h3>FIRST KING</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I am the monarch Melchior,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mighty alike in peace and war.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>SECOND KING</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I am the sovereign Balthasar;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A myriad fold my liegemen are.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>THIRD KING</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The royal ruler Jasper, I,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lord of a spacious empery.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>FIRST KING</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet do I seek a little child,—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>SECOND KING</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A tiny nursling undefiled;<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>THIRD KING</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And I am one likewise beguiled.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>FIRST KING</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To Him whose coming stars foretold,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A babe divine in mortal mould,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I bear this goodly gift of gold.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3>SECOND KING</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To Him whose life shall ease the sting<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of mankind’s weary travailing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This fragrant frankincense I bring.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>THIRD KING</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To Him whose loving words shall stir<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To aspirations holier,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My offering is this precious myrrh.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>ALL</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Piercing the mists of time, we see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The cruel cross, the agony,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, whelmed with pity, bend the knee.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Piercing the mists of time, we gaze<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Adown the future’s opening ways,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hear the swelling prayer and praise.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Piercing the mists of time, we hail<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The day when woe and sin shall fail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And over all His love prevail.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_SONG_FOR_CHRISTMAS_MORNING" id="A_SONG_FOR_CHRISTMAS_MORNING"></a>A Song for Christmas Morning</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O wear for garment mirth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Upon the soul,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As all the fields of earth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Wear one white stole!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A dream of things long gone<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Let sorrow be:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Turn thou thine eyes on dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thy heart on glee!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What wonder everywhere<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Above, abroad!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The amplitudes of air<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Abrim with God.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His presence shining through<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The risen sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in the bending blue<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His benison.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Into the gulfs of gloom<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Go death and night;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Behold around thee bloom<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Glad life and light!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The veil of darkness drawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thy vision free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Turn thou thy soul on dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Exultingly!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_CHRISTMAS_MINSTRELS" id="THE_CHRISTMAS_MINSTRELS"></a>The Christmas Minstrels</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now that the joy-day of the year is nearing,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In that fair sun-land set ’twixt sea and sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From hill and mountain dale behold appearing<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With jocund strains a minstrel company.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The reeds that shepherds played in eras olden,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">These are the tuneful pipes whereon they blow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sky that over-arches is the golden,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The bright Calabrian sky of long ago.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And since the decades of the saints and sages,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When here to Christ was first raised prayerful praise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These minstrel men through all the echoing ages<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Have heralded the hallowed Christmas days.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">From lonely shrines on steep and stony byways<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Their clear wild music up the pathway soars;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It gushes like a fount on traveled highways,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And through the populous piazza pours.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They cling to their old ways, these simple-hearted<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And humble dwellers on the uplands high;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their notes, an echo of the days departed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Span gulfs of time, and bring the dead years nigh.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Long may the cool Calabrian laurel alleys<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Hearken the strains, in rarer ether born,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of minstrels wending down the mountain valleys<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To greet the coming of the Christmas morn!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="TWELFTH_NIGHT_SONG" id="TWELFTH_NIGHT_SONG"></a>Twelfth Night Song</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Heaped be the fagots high,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the half-burnèd bough<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From last year’s revelry<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Be litten now!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brimmed be the posset bowl<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For every lusty soul;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And while the maskers rule,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Cry ‘Noel!’ cry ‘Noel!’ down all the halls of Yule!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O eager viols, thrill!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Pipe, hautboys, clear and sweet!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Work your impetuous will,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ye restless feet!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For every lip—a glass!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For every lad—a lass!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And, ere the ardors cool,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Cry ‘Noel!’ cry ‘Noel!’ down all the halls of Yule!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="YULE_AT_THENGELFOR" id="YULE_AT_THENGELFOR"></a>Yule at Thengelfor</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was Yule at Thengelfor,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sharp white tide of Yule;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the mailèd Thanes of War,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bred in the fiery school<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the devotees of Thor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flung into the council-hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With sneer and clamorous call<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the calm-browed Thanes of Peace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who worshiped without cease,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bending in prayer the knee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the One of Galilee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who died, as they said, for all.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Each man stood in his place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That sharp white noon of Yule,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the War-Thanes hooted “fool,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And “coward” and “craven knave;”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they flashed, each one, a glaive<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In every Peace-Thane’s face.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the Peace-Thanes were not cowed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Smiling their quiet smile<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the flaunts and threats and jeers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Roaring about their ears;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they held them poised and proud,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till, after a breathing while,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tumult died like the sea<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Subsiding sullenly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Around the breast of an isle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Set at the last fiord’s verge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fronting the western surge.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then into the council-hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where Peace confronted War,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where Christ confronted Thor,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dauntless, willowy, tall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came a maid of Thengelfor,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Princess. Ah, how fair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was the sunrise sheen of her hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">More wondrous to behold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than her coronet of gold!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she paused between them there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As white as the Yule was white,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till a hush fell on the air<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like the hush of the middle night.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she said, “What stand ye for?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the mailèd Thanes of War;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they shouted shrill, “For Thor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the kingdom’s olden might!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span>”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then she turned her, level-eyed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the Peace-Thanes. “Ye?” she cried;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As in one voice they replied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“For Christ, and the rule of right!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Thor and the war and might!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus she mused for a space;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Christ and peace and the right!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a glory mantled her face.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Better the right than might,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ye valiant Thanes of War!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blood now the Yule is white?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, ’twere a grievous sight!—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Better the Christ than Thor!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And ever and evermore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the Baltic’s rugged shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the halls of Thengelfor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Right not might is the rule,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Christ and not sanguine Thor<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the sharp white tide of Yule!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_YULE-TIDE_CAROL" id="A_YULE-TIDE_CAROL"></a>A Yule-Tide Carol</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O lightly lift thy finger,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thou loving lutanist,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And let around us linger<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thy music’s mellow mist!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Aye, let the strain beat faster<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In captivating time,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And mirth shall be our master<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Until the midnight chime!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Noel!—hang high the holly<br /></span> -<span class="i6">While leaps the Yule-log’s light;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">We’ll drive gray Melancholy<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Abroad into the night!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With silvery touch and tingle,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like brooks ’twixt sunny swards,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each soaring voice shall mingle<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And marry with the chords;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So shall the liquid laughter<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of mirth and music rule,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till rings the roof-tree’s rafter<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With revelries of Yule.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Noel!—hang high the holly,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And twine the ivy-tod;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">My merries, we’ll be jolly,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And spurn care like a clod!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="BALLAD_OF_THE_EVE_OF_YULE" id="BALLAD_OF_THE_EVE_OF_YULE"></a>Ballad of the Eve of Yule</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was hard on the tide of Yule,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the wind bit shrewd and sharp,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Churning the river pool,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And turning the deep-wood boughs,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That were wont to droop and drowse,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To the moaning strings of a harp.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A snow-threat gloomed the sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And with iterant, raucous caw<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A bevy of rooks went by,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Each a seeming thing<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of evil, ominous wing<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Flapping adown the flaw.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then night fell over the fen,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And he mused, still stumbling on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Out of the world of men<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Into the shades I go!”<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And he grimly laughed, when lo,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A light on his pathway shone!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Mine enemy’s tower!” he said,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As the beacon beckoned him. “Well,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Succor were likely as bread<br /></span> -<span class="i4">To be had from a shard or stone,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Or meat from a wolf-gnawed bone,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or hope in the heart of hell!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span>”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet he steered him sheer on the flare,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With a “Here or there, ’tis one!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A corpse in the morning air,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Frozen as rigid as steel,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Or a form on gibbet or wheel,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">What matters it how ’tis done!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He clanged a summons clear,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Keeping his grip on hate;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he wavered not to hear<br /></span> -<span class="i4">A word from a tongue abhorred,—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Then back swung the outer ward,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And his enemy stood in the gate.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Eyes upon burning eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Hung, as when war-fires rule<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under the angry skies;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Then, ere the wrath-flame died,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Welcome!” his enemy cried,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“For this is the eve of Yule.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Into the banquet-hall<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He was bid as a chosen guest;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there before them all<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Did his enemy give him meat,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And bread of the finest wheat,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And golden wine of the best.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then was he brought to a room<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where rugs were soft on the floor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a fire made fair the gloom;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And, warned with a stern behest<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of the sacred rights of a guest,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A guard was set at the door.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Through the black night-watches long<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Did he wait on sleep, but when<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came the peal of the matin song<br /></span> -<span class="i4">No slumber had kissed his brow;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">So he girded himself, for now<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sunlight lay on the fen.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then once more did his foe<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Proffer him drink and food;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forth to the court below<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Did his enemy lead the way,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Where, as one for a fray,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Chafing, a charger stood.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Hate!—it is burned into shame;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Scorn!—of myself is the scorn;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blame!—I confess to the blame;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Vengeance is thine!” he said,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And with averted head<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He rode out into the morn.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_HANGING_OF_THE_HOLLY" id="THE_HANGING_OF_THE_HOLLY"></a>The Hanging of the Holly</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The holly is for happiness;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Hang it, hang it high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the holy morn we bless<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Shows its rose along the sky!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The holly is for heartsome cheer;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Hang it, hang it high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While the glory of the year<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lights the heights of all the sky!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The holly is for home-side mirth;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Hang it, hang it high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till the dearest day of earth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fades in shades along the sky!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_MAID_OF_BETHLEHEM" id="THE_MAID_OF_BETHLEHEM"></a>The Maid of Bethlehem</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was a maid of Bethlehem;—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As fair as spring was she<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When first lifts up its fragile cup<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The rathe anemone.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was a man of Bethlehem;—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As dark of heart was he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As is night’s Stygian shadow cast<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Upon the lone Dead Sea.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He fawned where’er she set her foot,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He followed her like fate;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when she sealed his lips with scorn,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He held a tryst with hate.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And then, as venom through the veins,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Through Bethlehem there ran<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A whispered malice in the air<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That spread from man to man.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“And shall this living lie endure?”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In rising rage, they said;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“The purging fire shall work a cure<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Upon her sinful head!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span>”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was the maid of Bethlehem,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In all her stainless grace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They seized before the House of God<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Within the market-place.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was the man of Bethlehem<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who led the throng elate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That bore her out with mocking shout<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beyond the city gate.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Around her heaped they fagots high,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And touched the pile with flame;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Behold!” they cried, “the wanton witch!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She expiates her shame!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“O sinless One of Calvary,”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Then did they hear her say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Prove Thou my blameless innocence<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On this, Thy natal day!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Lo, as she spake, each fiery tongue<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Leaped on her foe of foes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The while from charred and smoking boughs<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Burst rose on crimson rose!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was the man of Bethlehem<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who died in agony;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was the maid of Bethlehem<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who went unharmed and free.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_CHRISTMAS_ALMSMAN" id="THE_CHRISTMAS_ALMSMAN"></a>The Christmas Almsman</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was a Christmas almsman<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Came to a palace door;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The flambeaux flared, the music blared,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And gleamed the waxen floor.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Out on thee, for a vagrant!”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A pompous porter cried;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Quick, get thee gone ere goads be drawn<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To scourge thy tattered hide!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The mirth roared to the rafter,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With plenty groaned the board,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet naught they gave that almsman gaunt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Save flaunting fleer and ribald taunt,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Despite his bare and bitter want,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From all their Yule-tide hoard!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was a Christmas almsman<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Unto a hovel came;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The walls so grim were drear and dim<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With one pale candle flame.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet spake the kindly hoveler<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who saw the beggar’s face:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“You’re welcome here, though lean our cheer;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Enter, and bide a space!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He shambled in; he crouched him down;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He ate their meagre fare;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lo, they found, when he had sped,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A scrip of gold and jewels red!<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>The hoveler had housed and fed</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>An angel unaware!</i><br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_BELLS_OF_CHRISTMAS" id="THE_BELLS_OF_CHRISTMAS"></a>The Bells of Christmas</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Pilgrim, you of the loosened lachet,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">What do you hear as you roam and roam?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Master, I list to the bells of Christmas,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The bells of Christmas, calling me home!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“They call and call, and I fain would hasten<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Back to the warmth of the old roof-tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the plentiful board and the merry faces,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the twilight prayer at the mother’s knee!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Pilgrim, you of the loosened lachet,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Why, then, still do you roam and roam?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Master, ’twas but a dream they conjured,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The bells of Christmas, calling me home.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Twas but a vision out of the distance,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Happy and holy and sweet, forsooth!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twas but a vision out of the distance,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Out of the long lost vale of Youth!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Pilgrim, you of the loosened lachet,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All of us have our dreams like thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And back are borne by the bells of Christmas<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To the twilight prayer at the mother’s knee!”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="CHRISTMAS_INGLE_SONG" id="CHRISTMAS_INGLE_SONG"></a>Christmas Ingle Song</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now once more the year has run<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Sun succeeding sceptred sun)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the time of hallowed birth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the holiest tide of earth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out with sadness! out with sin!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let us hail the Christ-Child in!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">While we lift our thanks for thrift,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Praise the giver and the gift,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the holly, berried bright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Druid ivy sprays unite!—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long they both have sacred been;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let us hail the Christ-Child in!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the back-log,—let it be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From some ancient forest tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Great of girth, that flames may roar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up the chimney high and hoar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus to swell our merry din;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let us hail the Christ-Child in!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Far into the night with song<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let us the old rites prolong!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cry, “Noel! noel! noel!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until peals the midnight bell!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If we peace and love would win,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let us hail the Christ-Child in!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="NEIL_MACDONALD" id="NEIL_MACDONALD"></a>Neil MacDonald</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Whither away, O Neil MacDonald?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whither away so fleet hie ye?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I have a tryst to keep, my mother,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Under the boughs of the holly tree!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Go ye not, O Neil MacDonald!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Go ye not, prithee! prithee!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I must keep the tryst, my mother,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Under the boughs of the holly tree!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Into the night leaps Neil MacDonald;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Every man has a weird to dree;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He will dree his weird this Yule-tide<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Under the boughs of the holly tree.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In the north the pale auroras<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Flash and waver spectrally;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the purple shadows slumber<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Under the boughs of the holly tree.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Over the burn bounds Neil MacDonald;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Through the bracken plunges he;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He has won to the purple shadows<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Under the boughs of the holly tree.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“O my love!” cries Neil MacDonald;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“O my love! my love!” cries she;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And their lips are met together<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Under the boughs of the holly tree.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Bitter the frost upon the moor-side,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bitter the frost, but what recks he,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With his arms about Fiorna<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Under the boughs of the holly tree!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“What is that I hear, beloved?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">What is that dark shape I see?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“You but dream, my Neil MacDonald,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Under the boughs of the holly tree.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“He dreams not, your Neil MacDonald,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Sister, false as the falsest be!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hark!—the clan-call of MacGregor<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Under the boughs of the holly tree!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hark!—the clan-call of MacGregor!—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Every man has a weird to dree!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He has dreed his, Neil MacDonald,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Under the boughs of the holly tree.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_STAR_OF_BETHLEHEM" id="THE_STAR_OF_BETHLEHEM"></a>The Star of Bethlehem</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Out of the past’s black night<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There shines one star<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose light<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is more than countless constellations are.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">High in the east it gleams;—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This radiant star<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose beams<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Are more to man than all the planets are.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Still be thy light displayed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">O Bethlehem star,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor fade<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Until the circling systems no more are!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="PIEROLS_CHRISTMAS" id="PIEROLS_CHRISTMAS"></a>Pierol’s Christmas</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Into the hall on the night of Yule<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Capered the jester, blithe Pierol,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Crying merrily, “Gifts for a fool!”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Sooth, right well did he play the role,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Though the wolf of bitterness gnawed his soul!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Proud his birth as the proudest there,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Count or baron or haughty knight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But poverty was his sorry share,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A lonely tower on a barren height<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(And a wit as bright as his purse was light).<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So under the motley he hid his name;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Under the motley he hid his heart;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he could not hide nor he could not tame<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His leaping spirit that would out-start,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor his face,—Endymion’s counterpart.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Gifts for a fool!” Troth, they loved him well,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Loved his beauty and blithesomeness,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Loved his quips and lyric spell<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of the songs he sang with so gay a stress,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And his head thrown back like a hawk in jess!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So they tossed him,—this one a golden chain,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That one a bracelet, another a ring;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till out of all of that feasting train<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There was only a maid who had failed to fling<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Some bauble to him,—some costly thing.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And she,—how fair like the thorn in May<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She seemed as she sat in her stainless guise!—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As he paused in his pirouetting gay,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Caught to heart the look in his fearless eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That were fixed upon her in yearning wise;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And raising a hand,—ne’er was shapelier<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By prince or paladin won, I wis,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the shock of the lists, or the silken stir<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of the courts of Love who is queen of bliss!—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She cast him the honeyed boon of a kiss.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Gifts—for a—fool!” far, fainter the cry<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Drooped in the distance to quaver and shift,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A moment to linger, and then to die.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of all that meed of a jester’s thrift<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which to Pierol was the dearest gift?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="SONG_FOR_THE_EVE_OF_YULE" id="SONG_FOR_THE_EVE_OF_YULE"></a>Song for the Eve of Yule</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here’s a fig for Melancholy,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Now the year is at the Yule!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Welcome Fun and welcome Folly!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Welcome anything that’s jolly!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What say you, sweet Mistress Molly,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Shall not Love and Laughter rule?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come and close about the ingle<br /></span> -<span class="i2">While the caverned chimney roars!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Song and merriment shall mingle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till the very rafters tingle;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then shall sound the jangle-jingle<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of the sleigh-bells at the doors!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Out upon all frowning faces!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Out upon the ghost of Gloom!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In with games and glees and graces!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Loose (for once) smug Custom’s traces;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Put old Momus through his paces!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Give the merry maskers room!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Aye, a fig for Melancholy!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Garland Love, let Laughter rule!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hail to Fun and hail to Folly!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hail the jovial and the jolly!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall we not, sweet Mistress Molly,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Now the year is at the Yule!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_THREE_KINGS" id="THE_THREE_KINGS"></a>The Three Kings</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Came those monarchs, grave and hoar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With their gifts, a goodly store,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Gold and frankincense and myrrh,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On that holy night of yore,—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ator, Sator, Sarasin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In their hallowed purpose kin,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Following the guiding star,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each a sacred goal to win.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Did they bear their offerings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such a wealth of precious things,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Unto one of princely place,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sprung, like them, from earthly kings?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nay, but to an infant born<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a lowly spot forlorn<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Yet around whose glorious face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shone a halo like the morn!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For a spirit unto each<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spake in no uncertain speech,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Saying, “In a manger lies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One who God to man shall teach;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">One who shall the night o’erthrow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bearing heaven with Him below,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Love that triumphs over hate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Peace and joy that conquer woe.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So those monarchs, men of fame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bowed before Him, blessed His name,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Laid their offerings at His feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Passed as swiftly as they came.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Stretch the years, a checkered chart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Since they played their deathless part,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Yet to-day may we, like them,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Giving, hold the Christ at heart.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_WISE_MEN" id="THE_WISE_MEN"></a>The Wise Men</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Wise Men wander across the wold,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(O the Star in the sky!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bearing their goodly gifts of gold.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(How the low wind whispereth by!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Whispereth<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Of birth, not death,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With joy in its lifted cry!)<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Wise Men come unto Bethlehem;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(O the Star in the sky!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A star is the beacon that guideth them.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(How the soft wind hasteneth by!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Hasteneth<br /></span> -<span class="i6">The while it saith,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“O the Light of the World is nigh!”)<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Wise Men kneel at the infant’s feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(O the Star in the sky!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the loving mother smileth sweet.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(While the wind it hurrieth by,—<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Hurrieth<br /></span> -<span class="i6">As it gladly saith,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“O the Hope of the World is high!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span>”)<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Wise Men rise, and they go their ways;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(O the Star in the sky!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all this happened in the ancient days.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(But the wind still gladdeneth by,—<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Gladdeneth<br /></span> -<span class="i6">At the death of Death,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That Life hath the victory!)<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_YULE_SONG" id="A_YULE_SONG"></a>A Yule Song</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Who cries ’tis folly to wreathe the bright holly?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who is it scoffs at the mistletoe bough?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Marry, then, out on him! marry, then, flout on him!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">If there’s a time to be jolly, ’tis now!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Berry-tide, cherry-tide, each is a merry tide,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And there’s charm in the nutting, I vow!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But none surpasses,—how say you, my lasses?—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The time for up-hanging the mistletoe bough!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Reason,—away with it! Men have grown gray with it,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Pondering why and considering how;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We have no part in it,—nay, and no heart in it!—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Under the droop of the mistletoe bough!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So, lads, your choices all! Lift, maids, your voices all!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Love levels prince with the man at the plough.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We’ll make our boast of it, we’ll make our toast of it,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ne’er may it wither, the mistletoe bough!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_CHRISTMAS_HUNTER" id="THE_CHRISTMAS_HUNTER"></a>The Christmas Hunter</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With blare of horn and holloa,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who is it forth doth fare?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is the Christmas Hunter<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who rides adown the air.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Upon his wild steed, Sleipnir,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He storms across the sky;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And like the moan of ocean<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His vanguard surges by.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They are the Judas-hearted,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They are the souls of them<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That spurned God’s own anointed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Man of Bethlehem.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For them nor peace nor joyance<br /></span> -<span class="i2">At this high tide of Yule,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Since they are doomed to follow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Hunter’s iron rule.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Rage fills his veins with riot<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When peals the Christmas mirth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For memory bears him backward<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When he had power on earth.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So mad he whirls his minions<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Behind him fast and far,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Without or pause or pity,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From star to utmost star.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The once almighty Odin<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whom Christ hurled from his height,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He is the Christmas Hunter<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who roams the voids of night.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_CHRISTMAS_SONG" id="A_CHRISTMAS_SONG"></a>A Christmas Song</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O’er the wastes the crows are calling—<br /></span> -<span class="i6"><i>Caw! Caw!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the hedges of the haw,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sparrows with their merry clatter<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cheep and chatter,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Naught’s the matter!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Marry, marry! naught’s the matter!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i6">Then it’s ho! heigh-ho!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the waking world’s aglow!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the mirthful bells of Christmas<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Ring across the snow!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Down the garden Colin’s calling—<br /></span> -<span class="i6"><i>Mollie! Mollie!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the thickets of the holly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Choruses the hidden starling,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Saucy darling!<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>You’re behind her!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Kiss her, kiss her, when you find her!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i6">Then it’s ho! heigh-ho!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who’s for worry, who’s for woe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the wooing bells of Christmas<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Ring across the snow?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_LOVER_TO_HIS_RHYME" id="A_LOVER_TO_HIS_RHYME"></a>A Lover to His Rhyme</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Go seek her out, my rhyme,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her of the cruel heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And with your softest chime,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And with your blandest art,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Plead that this merry time<br /></span> -<span class="i2">May see her frowns depart.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And whisper, ah, so low!—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(And mark ye if she sigh!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That sprays of mistletoe<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Are plucked to hang on high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That holly berries glow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That Christmas-tide is nigh.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And if ye win one smile,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">O speed ye hither swift!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From eyes cast down the while<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The aching gloom will lift,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in the orchard aisle<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Will flower the frozen drift.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">More I that ray will prize<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Than pearls of orient birth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twill set the wintry skies<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A-dazzle over earth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And love, in lilied guise,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Will light the Christmas hearth.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_CHRISTMAS_PILGRIMAGE" id="THE_CHRISTMAS_PILGRIMAGE"></a>The Christmas Pilgrimage<br /><br /> -<small>(Bethlehem)</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What means this waiting throng?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whence have these weary, way-worn wanderers come?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why rises, in strange tongues, the expectant hum,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like that tense under-song<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The joyful Jordan voices in the spring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till Hermon hearkens, leaning grandly down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wearing still his shimmering snowy crown?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soon will these murmuring lips with ardor sing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And soon these lifted faces, wan or brown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Glow into worship that is rapturing.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Back will be thrown the consecrated door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then these feet, from many a distant shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be privileged to press the hallowed floor.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Why have they come,—the hardy mountaineer<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From Lebanon’s cedars and their checkered shade?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The merchant and the snowy-mantled maid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who hold great Nilus dear?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why have they come,—the men with restless eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And pallid cheeks that tell of norland skies?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why have they come,—the Latin and the Greek?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do pilgrims thus this sanctuary seek<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because ’twas here<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For year on fiery year<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The red earth drank<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The deluged blood of Paynim and of Frank?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or do they surge to see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The antique symmetry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of springing arch and carven pillar fine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In this old holy house of Constantine?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah, no! ah, no! To them the memory<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of war is not, and monarchs play no part<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In any thought that stirs an eager heart.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They have no eyes to see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A single graceful groining. What care they<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If here, upon a bygone Christmas-day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The King-crusader, Baldwin, took his crown!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or what to them the saint of blest renown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In yonder sepulchre, now crumbling clay!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their patient feet one precious spot would press,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their yearning eyes would lovingly caress<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The time-dulled silver star<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sunk deep within the pavement, footfall-worn:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“<i>Here, of the Virgin Mary, Christ was born</i>,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They read, these pilgrims who have plodded far.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They read and pass and ponder. Few can see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tiny chapel and the dim-lit shrine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And feel no thrill, despite the mummery,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of something more divine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Within the breast than ever pulsed before.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then let us pilgrims be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon this sacred day we all adore!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Although our mortal feet touch not the floor,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Although our mortal eyes may not behold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our spirits may take flight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And with immortal sight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stand where the prayerful wise-men stood of old<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In ecstasy of adoration, when<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They saw the Savior of the sons of men.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_YULE-LOG" id="THE_YULE-LOG"></a>The Yule-Log</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hale the Yule-log in!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Heap the fagots high!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a merry din<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Rouse old Revelry!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cry “Noel! Noel!”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Till the rafters ring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the gleeful bell<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Peals its answering!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Brim the Christmas cup<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From the wassail-bowl,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now the flame leaps up<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With its ruddy soul!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the glowing blaze<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How the dancers spin!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deftest in the maze,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nimble Harlequin!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Grim Snapdragon comes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With his mimic ire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And his feast of plums<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Smothered in the fire.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O the days of mirth,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the nights akin!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heap the Christmas hearth;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Hale the Yule-log in!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="BALLAD_OF_THE_CHRISTMAS_TRYST" id="BALLAD_OF_THE_CHRISTMAS_TRYST"></a>Ballad of the Christmas Tryst</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“It’s hey! my merry huntsman,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With hound and hawk and horn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where hie ye to the hunting<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This crispy Christmas morn?”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“It’s ho! mine ancient gossip,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To Wildmere wood I go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To seek beneath the boughs of Yule<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The roebuck and the roe.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“It’s ha! my merry huntsman,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A cunning tongue have ye;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With deer ye keep no Christmas tryst<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beneath the greenwood-tree.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“It’s hist! mine ancient gossip,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I prithee, speak me low,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lest they that love me not should hear<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To Wildmere wood I go.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“It’s list! my merry huntsman,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They wot thy coming well,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wait thee where the pathway dips<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To cross the birken dell.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span>”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“It’s good! mine ancient gossip,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How many may there be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Betwixt me and my Christmas tryst<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beneath the greenwood-tree?”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“It’s hark! my merry huntsman,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There’s Bernard of the Bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sir Egbert of the Crooked Arm,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And Giles of Clariveaux;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“There’s Giles, my merry huntsman,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The wiliest of men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brother in blood, though black his heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To one whose name ye ken.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Gramercy! ancient gossip,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And shall these stay my foot?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then may the House of Hardigrave<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Be withered to the root!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He gave his page his hound in leash,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His hawk and eke his horn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gaily did he onward ride<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beneath the Christmas morn.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And now the birken dell was won,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And now the shallow ford,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now he heard the scabbard ring<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Its answer to the sword.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And forth from out the coppice deep<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Rode Bernard of the Bow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sir Egbert of the Crooked Arm,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And Giles of Clariveaux.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Small parley was there then, God wot,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But bickering of steel,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And down clashed Bernard of the Bow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beneath his charger’s heel.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And Egbert of the Crooked Arm<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Reeled sidewise as he knew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sharp bite of a falchion’s point<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His stricken harness through.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then clear rang out the huntsman’s shout,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Right merrily cried he,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“God’s with the son of Hardigrave<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who loves <i>La Belle Marie</i>!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, deep cursed Giles of Clariveaux<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To hear his sister’s name,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While ’neath his vizor burned his eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like orbs of evil flame!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Have at thee, Hardigrave!” he hissed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“This riding thou shalt rue!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And round them like a fiery mist<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The spiteful sparks outflew.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Twas parry, cut and countercut,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And fiercer-faced the while<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grew treacherous Giles of Clariveaux<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To mark the huntsman’s smile.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And seeing he was sore beset,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That urgent grew his need,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He aimed a caitiff’s coward blow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To maim his foeman’s steed.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But vain that cruel, craven thrust,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For whiles he strove to rein<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The shoulder of his sword-arm<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Was riven half in twain.<br /></span> -<span class="i6">* * * * *<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O starling in the thicket, see<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where, eyes with love aglow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Adown the forest pathway goes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The rose of Clariveaux!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And hearken, O ye holly boughs!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And, O ye larches, list!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is the song of one who rides<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To keep his Christmas tryst.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_KNIGHTS_CHRISTMAS" id="A_KNIGHTS_CHRISTMAS"></a>A Knight’s Christmas</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I hear the shrilling hautboys sound,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The thrilling drums take up the din,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And through the doorway’s gaping bound<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A lusty, mincing manikin<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bears, garlanded, the boar’s head in.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The great bells clamor in the tower<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Their jubilation. Down the hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mirth bursts into a brilliant flower<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of quip and toast and madrigal;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“Noel! Noel! Noel!” cry all.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And yet joy seems a thing foredone<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Forevermore in every place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beneath the red rays of the sun;—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">What is Christ’s mass that wrought man grace<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Without the favor of love’s face!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_WHITE_LADYE" id="THE_WHITE_LADYE"></a>The White Ladye</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“The flax upon your distaff<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is yellow as your hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But why, on Christmas even,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thus spin you, maiden fair?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“The joy-bells in the steeples<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Are ringing clear and wide;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O stop the whirring spindle,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And put the flax aside!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Nay, but I may not, master,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Although I weary be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lest through the open shutter<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Should peer the White Ladye;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“And find my treadle idle,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My flax in tangled fold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on the merry morrow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Forget her gift of gold.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“For to the slothful virgin<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She causeth sorrowing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But to the thrifty maiden<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A blessing she doth bring!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A soft touch at the shutter,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A face divine to see!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is the fairy spinner,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It is the White Ladye!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_WIZARD_PEOPLE" id="THE_WIZARD_PEOPLE"></a>The Wizard People</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Adown the ways of winter,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Above the vasts of snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With woven flame their sandals shod,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through airy wastes by paths untrod,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The wizard people go.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">By day their feats are hidden,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But night beholds their mirth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When in the abysses of the air<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their sorceries they flaunt and flare<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Above a wondering earth.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In vain the hilltops hearken,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Their lips no sound reveal;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But ever on, from arc to arc,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across the spangled depths of dark<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Their pennons whirl and wheel.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Why come they? Who can answer?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whence go they? Who can tell?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flaming and fading down the night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A mystery, a dream-delight,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A splendor and a spell!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Such are the wizard people,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The brethren of the pole;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And though man long has sought to gain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their secret, suns shall wax and wane<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ere he shall read their soul!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="HOLLY_SONG" id="HOLLY_SONG"></a>Holly Song</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Care is but a broken bubble,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Trill the carol, troll the catch!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sooth we’ll cry, “A truce to trouble!”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Mirth and mistletoe shall match!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4"><i>Happy folly! we’ll be jolly!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i6"><i>Who’d be melancholy now?</i><br /></span> -<span class="i4"><i>With a “Hey, the holly! ho, the holly!”</i><br /></span> -<span class="i6"><i>Polly hangs the holly bough.</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Laughter lurking in the eye, sir,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Pleasure foots it frisk and free;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He who frowns or looks awry, sir,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Faith, a witless wight is he!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4"><i>Merry folly! what a volley</i><br /></span> -<span class="i6"><i>Greets the hanging of the bough!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i4"><i>With a “Hey, the holly! ho, the holly!”</i><br /></span> -<span class="i6"><i>Who’d be melancholy now?</i><br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="GENNESAR" id="GENNESAR"></a>Gennesar</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Bright ’neath the Syrian sun, dim ’neath the Syrian star,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus lieth Galilee’s sea, sapphirine lake Gennesar;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Girdled by mountains that range purple and proud to their crests,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bearing the burden of dreams,—glamour of eld,—on their breasts.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Just one white glint of a sail dotting the brooding expanse;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beaches that sparkle and gleam, ripples that darkle and dance;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Grandeur and beauty and peace welded year-long into one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under the Syrian star, under the Syrian sun!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And over all and through all memories sweet of His name<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Kindling the past with their light, touching the future with flame!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="FIRELIGHT" id="FIRELIGHT"></a>Firelight</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Whene’er at evening on the pictured wall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I watch the flickering firelight rise and fall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From out the shifting shadow-vistas come<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The forms of those who marched to martyrdom,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unflinching souls no agony could tame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A martyr wraith for every tongue of flame!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="MOTHER-OF-PEARL" id="MOTHER-OF-PEARL"></a>Mother-of-Pearl</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Mother-of-pearl out of Bethlehem,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Irradiant with all rainbow lights,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shimmering, shifting opal whites,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The June-time rose’s palest fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sunset’s most translucent gold,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Delicate as a precious gem<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shaped for a lover’s heart’s desire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Glowing as morn, yet virgin cold!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Mother-of-pearl out of Bethlehem,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus I read you, bending above<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your sheen, more fair than the breast of a dove;—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The white is the Mother without a stain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the blended hues, the fire and the gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They stand for Him who for diadem<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had a crown of thorns, and was basely slain,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Son of God clad in mortal mould!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_BELLS_OF_ARDO" id="THE_BELLS_OF_ARDO"></a>The Bells of Ardo</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">By wide gray orchards girdled,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And cloistered deep in vines,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Remote stood ancient Ardo<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Amid the Apennines.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Below her banded belfries<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That loomed above the land<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For weeks gaunt Plague and Famine<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Had walked with linkèd hand.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Until, when neared the Yule-tide,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On pale lips swooned the prayer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And only sounds of wailing<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Swept down the bitter air.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No heart had any ringer<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To sound the joyful bells;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The soaring campanile<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Pealed naught but burial knells.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So when the Christmas sunlight<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Scattered the chill white haze<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sorely scourgèd people<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Were smitten with amaze<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hearing from San Stefano,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A spire and shrine forlorn,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A glorious jubilate<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Salute the startled morn.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Fast flocked the folk, and wonder<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Swelled high that dawning hour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For unseen hands were swinging<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The bells within the tower.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And ’twixt their rhythmic chiming,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Word upon precious word,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A vibrant voice of promise<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In solemn wise was heard;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“This day,” it cried, “my people,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The cruel curse shall cease,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there shall fall upon you<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My benison of peace!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When failed the silvery bell-notes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Till arch and aisle were still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twas found that all in Ardo<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Were healed of every ill.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And now, as Christmas morning<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Breaks over street and square<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bells of San Stefano<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ring out upon the air;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And still the gathered people<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lift praise with glad accord<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unto the One almighty<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That was their fathers’ Lord.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="IN_THE_AGE_OF_THE_YEAR" id="IN_THE_AGE_OF_THE_YEAR"></a>In the Age of the Year</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Is it the wizard wind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That has shriveled the quince’s rind?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sooth, we know it was he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who shook the leaves from the tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And danced them out of breath<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till they wizened away in death!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Strange and subtile powers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have rule of these ashen hours,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Binding the stricken sphere<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In this, the age of the year.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Through the crispèd grass and the husk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rustle the feet of the Dusk;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the only song we know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is the back-log’s murmur low.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then come, and sit with me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the side of Memory<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Love, with the bluet skies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In her spring-reverting eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there shall be vernal cheer<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In this, the age of the year!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_LOVERS_CHRISTMAS" id="A_LOVERS_CHRISTMAS"></a>A Lover’s Christmas</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Fade the last embers in the year’s chill urn;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah, love, how red the holly berries burn!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A shroud of ermine hides the meadow ways;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah, love, how green are still the ivy sprays!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Black are the boughs against a sky of gray;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah, love, how golden is the Yule-log’s ray!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Behind the wood the sad wind plainteth long;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah, love, the mirth within the mummer’s song!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In garth and orchard naught but gloom and dearth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah, love, the joy about the Christmas hearth!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Winter’s white woe, its bitter sting and smart—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah, love, the love aye vernal, in the heart!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="BALLAD_OF_KIRKLAND_HILLS" id="BALLAD_OF_KIRKLAND_HILLS"></a>Ballad of Kirkland Hills</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The grand old hills of Kirkland<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Stood up against the morn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As o’er a rutty road there strode<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A pilgrim lean and lorn.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The wood-crowned hills of Kirkland,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They notched the wan blue sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As toward that plodding pilgrim came<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A horseman urging by.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I prithee, weary pilgrim,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Now whither dost thou roam?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I seek a gabled farmstead set<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Amid these hills of home;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I seek an ancient rooftree set<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Amid these uplands white.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“God give thee luck,” the horseman cried,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“Before this Christmas night!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The kindly hills of Kirkland,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They saw, when broad noon shone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Above the fair Oriska vale,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This pilgrim toiling on.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The hemlocks preened their night-dark plumes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As up and up he clomb;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The same old rook-calls welcomed him<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Back to the hills of home.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">High on the hills of Kirkland<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where hale the north-wind roared,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O gay were they that grouped about<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The heapèd Christmas board!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And yet the brooding mother,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With smiles she hid the tear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For one whose lips she had not kissed<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This many a lonely year;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For one whose wander-lust had led<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His roving spirit far,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until she dreamed he slept beneath<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The clear Alaskan star.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hark, at the door a summons!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A step upon the sill!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O mother-eyes abrim with joy,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And mother-heart athrill!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And O ye hills of Kirkland,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In wintry white and gray,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A gladder sight ye never saw<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On any Christmas day!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_CLOSED_ROOM" id="THE_CLOSED_ROOM"></a>The Closed Room</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In the marvelous house of life<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Each year is a closèd room;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is filled with peace and strife,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It is packed with glow and gloom.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There are hopes in the hues of dream,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There are cares in their grim array,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There are pleasures that glint and gleam,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And sorrows in drugget gray.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For some, with his infinite grace,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Love waits when the portal jars;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For some, with his sphinx-like face,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Death stands when the door unbars.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Some back from the threshold shrink,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As loath from the past to part;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the most plunge over the brink<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With never a fear at heart.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then silent closes the door<br /></span> -<span class="i2">At the sound of the last old chime,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the key—Forevermore—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is turned by the keeper—Time!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="UNDER_THE_HOLLY_BOUGH" id="UNDER_THE_HOLLY_BOUGH"></a>Under the Holly Bough</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When the hale year laughed in the prime of May,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And each path was a lure to the truant eye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the south-wind sang: “Come away! Come away!”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(Ah, but the blue of a vernal sky!)<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When the vireo’s voice was a lyric cry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twas the bloom o’ the apple beckoned us; now<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When we meet, my sweet, for the trysting, why,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis under the green of the holly bough!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When the meadows swooned in the dazzling day,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the hilltops seemed in a dream to lie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When shrill was the locust’s roundelay,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(Ah, but the glow of a summer sky!)<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When the stream-song sank to a rippling sigh,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twas the pleach o’ the elm-leaves beckoned us; now<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When we meet, my sweet, for the trysting, why,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis under the green of the holly bough!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When the woodland gleamed like a prismy ray,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the distance drowsed in a golden dye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When vineyard and orchard aisles were gay<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(Ah, but the depths of an autumn sky!)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i2">With stains like a web of Tyrian ply,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twas the flame o’ the maple beckoned us; now<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When we meet, my sweet, for the trysting, why,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis under the green of the holly bough!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>ENVOY</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Spring, summer and autumn have all sped by,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Ah, but the chill of a winter sky!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet love still calls to the tryst, and now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis under the green of the holly bough!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="COSETTES_CHRISTMAS" id="COSETTES_CHRISTMAS"></a>Cosette’s Christmas</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Cosette they called her; Cosette, that was all;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fragile she was and flower-like, slim and tall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For her eleven years, wherein her heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had known but little save the world’s sharp smart.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never her ear had heard a mother’s croon;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never for her, about the break of June,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had been outstretched a father’s shielding hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To guide her woodward through the smiling land.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The streets oppressed her with their cruel roar;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The birds she saw above her dart and soar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Theirs was the life she longed for, not to be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mewed within walls that were a gloom to see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And stung with taunts from a virago tongue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That aged her spirit yearning to be young.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Foundling,—a fate that brooked of no appeal<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was hers by some inexorable seal.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Backward and forward oft she went and came<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the grim spot, that was but home in name,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On casual errandry. It chanced one day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As she passed swiftly on her timid way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(’Twas near the season of the Christ-child’s birth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The happy tide of peace and love on earth)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A heedless hand struck from her feeble grasp<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The glass she strove so carefully to clasp,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she beheld it, with a plaintive cry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shattered before her on the pavement lie.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The throng swept by, and caught her in its swirl;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There was no lip to soothe the sobbing girl,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No kindliness to aid her. A great fear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Clutched at her breast; she knew the stabbing jeer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pitiless blows that waited her when she<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Told the ill outcome of her errandry.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then through her brain there flashed a sudden word<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That in the hive-like purlieus she had heard,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And filled her mind with sunshine. No affright<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Touched her with chill at thought of death’s dim night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For she recalled how once the preacher said<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That in white lily-gardens walk the dead.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So in she stole at the accustomed door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sought out a room upon the lower floor<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wherein the porter, sullen-visaged, slept;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Toward a remembered drawer on tiptoe crept,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Plucked, undetected, thence a shining thing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gained again the street in triumphing.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A ringing shot, a little piteous moan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a child’s blood encrimsoning the stone!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When Cosette oped her heavy-lidded eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wonder assailed her, and a great surmise.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was this the lily-land of her delight?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It shone so bare, and yet so very white!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long stainless walls and little cots in rows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And one whose smile invited to repose;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">She drowsed, her mind still dwelling on that face,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dreamed she’d found the angels’ sleeping-place.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when, next day, they told her where she lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A tiny tear-drop found its mournful way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Adown the death-like pallor of her cheek;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She closed her eyes and sighed, but did not speak.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dawn followed dawn, and still the little one<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Went not to that dim bourn beyond the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But ever seemed about to pass thereto;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nearer and nearer now the Yule-tide drew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And to the hospital one morn there strayed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A kindly man who made the news his trade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And learned the piteous story of the maid.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Cosette,” he said, with a strange catch of tone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His sight grown dim, remembering his own,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Have you no wish?” and she, with him at ease,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cried,—“Two red roses and an orange, please!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Just two red roses and an orange!</i> So<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He wrote next day that all the town might know;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then Christmas morning broke above the snow.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The morn of Christmas broke; bell spoke to bell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The loving message of “good-will” to tell;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The postmen bustled on their burdened round;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And happy greetings rang with cordial sound.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then, at the hospital, a summons came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Another and another, and the name<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The answering nurse with every message met<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was still “Cosette,” and evermore “Cosette,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For all had read the story of the child.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Roses upon her bed were strewn and piled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And breathed their June about her everywhere,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gleamed on the table, glistened on the chair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the soft loveliness of the pale tea-rose<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the deep splendor of the Jacqueminots.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And oranges! forsooth, it was as though<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The palm-set lands where the long trade-winds blow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fair Florida and the Lucayan shores,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had here unbosomed their most precious stores!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Both rich and poor had sought to ease the smart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of her whose tale had touched the city’s heart.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she—Cosette—through kindness’ golden dower,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Smiled upon life, and mended from that hour.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="PILGRIMS" id="PILGRIMS"></a>Pilgrims</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Their path who shall unravel,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Their purpose who unroll?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From out the past they travel,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The future is their goal.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Theirs are the forward faces,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The spring’s Arcadian airs;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old eternal graces<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of youngling Time are theirs.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Or gold the sky or ashen,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There broods within their breast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sleepless pilgrim passion,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sweet divine unrest.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They neither flag nor falter,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They tarry not nor tire;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their aim they will not alter<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Although a king desire.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They fear nor frost nor fever,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor fire nor famine they;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They follow Fate, the weaver,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For ever and a day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now tell their eyes the story<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of more than mortal tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now gleam with starry glory,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The passing pilgrim Years.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LYRICS & LEGENDS AT CHRISTMAS-TIDE ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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