Christmas Part 11

The Anthem stilled--the angels leaning there Above the golden walls--the morning sun Of Christmas bursting flower-like with the prayer, "G.o.d bless us Every One!"

BELLS ACROSS THE SNOWS

FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL

O Christmas, merry Christmas!

Is it really come again, With its memories and greetings, With its joy and with its pain?

There's a minor in the carol, And a shadow in the light, And a spray of cypress twining With the holly wreath to-night.

And the hush is never broken By laughter light and low, As we listen in the starlight To the "bells across the snow."

O Christmas, merry Christmas!

'Tis not so very long Since other voices blended With the carol and the song!

If we could but hear them singing As they are singing now, If we could but see the radiance Of the crown on each dear brow; There would be no sigh to smother, No hidden tear to flow, As we listen in the starlight To the "bells across the snow."

O Christmas, merry Christmas!

This never more can be; We cannot bring again the days Of our unshadowed glee.

But Christmas, happy Christmas, Sweet herald of good-will, With holy songs of glory Brings holy gladness still.

For peace and hope may brighten, And patient love may glow, As we listen in the starlight To the "bells across the snow."

CHRISTMAS BELLS

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, And wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come, The belfries of all Christendom Had rolled along The unbroken song Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till, ringing, swinging on its way, The world revolved from night to day A voice, a chime, A chant sublime Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth The cannon thundered in the South And with the sound The carols drowned Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent The hearth-stones of a continent, And made forlorn The households born Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head; "There is no peace on earth," I said; "For hate is strong And mocks the song Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep.

"G.o.d is not dead; nor doth He sleep!

The Wrong shall fail, The Right prevail, With peace on earth, good-will to men!"

MINSTRELS AND MAIDS

WILLIAM MORRIS

Outlanders, whence come ye last?

_The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ Through what green seas and great have ye past?

_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._

From far away, O masters mine, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ We come to bear you goodly wine, _Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._

From far away we come to you, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ To tell of great tidings strange and true, _Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._

News, news of the Trinity, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ And Mary and Joseph from over the sea!

_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._

For as we wandered far and wide, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ What hap do you deem there should us betide!

_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._

Under a bent when the night was deep, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ There lay three shepherds tending their sheep.

_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._

"O ye shepherds, what have ye seen, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ To slay your sorrow, and heal your teen?"

_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._

"In an ox-stall this night we saw, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ A babe and a maid without a flaw.

_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._

"There was an old man there beside, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ His hair was white and his hood was wide.

_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._

"And as we gazed this thing upon, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ Those twain knelt down to the Little One, _Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._

"And a marvellous song we straight did hear, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ That slew our sorrow and healed our care."

_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._

News of a fair and marvellous thing, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ Nowell, nowell, nowell, we sing!

_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._

INEXHAUSTIBILITY OF THE SUBJECT OF CHRISTMAS

LEIGH HUNT

So many things have been said of late years about Christmas, that it is supposed by some there is no saying more. O they of little faith! What!

do they suppose that every thing has been said that _can_ be said about any one Christmas thing?

About beef, for instance?

About plum-pudding?

About mince-pie?

About holly?

About ivy?

About rosemary?