Daily British Whig (1850), 23 Dec 1911, p. 12

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O YOUMike poetry? D Mighs as well ask Do you Velieve it fairies?" : And that, of course, you dow ty after. you have been released from the spell of Peter Pan. : . But Christmas poetry? Ok, that's different. Why, don't we all know "The Night Before Christmas" and "Beautiful Snow'® There, you see, we don't know.anything at all about Christmas poetry; and yet we are eager 10 admis we like it. "Beautiful Snow' isn't a Christ mas poem at all; and ever since the other one became the delight of childish and grown-up hearts the critics have been trying to show that it can't possibly be real poetry. ! : Nevertheless, we have loved that one bis of Christmas verse so well that we know it from beginning to end; and, for lack of knowing anything else, we have just kept on reciting it at the Christmas entertginments until we are almost willing to forgét it again, r And meanwhile our American poets, who can touch tk: very core of our souls as surely as Bobbie Burns when they are willing to be homely and regl, have written so many beautiful Christmas poems hot it is one of obr Saifond pities we don't know scores of them instead of seldom reading one of them. : There are James Whitcomb Riley's "Who Santy-Claus Wuz' and Eugene Field's "Bethlehem Town; and for the "higher literature,' such relly ie things as John Greenleaf W hittier's "Star of Bethlehem," Hengy Wadsworth Longfellow's "Christmas Carol," Edmund Clarence Stedman's Aunty ai Yule and Richard i" atson Gitder's "Christmas Hymn." nd then there are scores and scores of others: as i mevican e fairly inspired to sing when joyful or comes Abela le A prosaic, practical, money-grubbing lot, we Americans; but there are wot so very many other nations that can show better Christmas poetry than we have ready to grace our festival with. ti Lo! wise men came that bore a crown. "Is there," cried I, "in Bethlehem A King shall wear this diadem ?" : "Good sooth," they quoth, "and it is He That shall be lifted on the tree And freely shed on Calvary What blood redeemeth us and thee!" Unto a Child in Bethlehem:-town The wise men came and brought the crown; And while the infant smiling slept, Upon their knees they fell and wept; But, with her babe upon her knee, Naught recked that Mother of the tree, That should uplift on Calvary What burthen saveth all and me. § 1 was going to Bethléhem-town, 47% 'Upon the earth I cast me down ; All underneath a little tree {That whispered in this wise tome: "Oh, 1 shall stand on Calvary And bear what burthen saveth thee!" up I fared to Bethlehem-town, met a shepherd coming down, : And thus he guoth: "A wondrous sight | : 3 $dath spread before mine eyes this night,~ Again I walk in Bethlehem-town An. angel host most fair to see, * And think on Him that wears the crown- fi weg full sweetly of a tree I may not kiss His feet again, shall uplift on Calvary Nor worship Him as I did then; What burthen saveth you and mel" My King hath died upon the tree, And hath outpoured on Calvary 'And as I gat.to Bethlehem-town, 'What blood redeemeth you and me! The § ES' a little bit o' feller--I remember still-- * Ust to almost cry fer Christmas, like a youngster will. Fourth o' Jaly's nothing to it |--New Year's ain't a smell] Easter-Sunday--Circus-day--jes' all dead in the shell | Lawzy, though! at night, you know, to set around ar' hear Theweld folks work the story off about the sledge an' deer, fo or skootin' round the roof, all wrapt in fur an' fuzz-- afore . : 1 knowed who "Santy-Claus" wuz! Usttorwait, an' set up late, a week er two ahead; Couldn't hardly keep awake, ner wouldn't go to bed: Kittle stewin' on the fire, an' mother settin' here ADerain' socks, an' rockin' in the skreeky rockin'-cheer; are ' sleighsbells when the dock "ud whir an' buzz, 1 knowed who ; 2 "Santy-Claus" wuz' figger how "Ole Santy" could = own the chinibly, like they said he would: ide an' S55 bist stondend What he'd say J HERE Time the measure of his hours By changeful bud and blossom keeps, And, like a young bride crowned with flowers, Fair Shiraz in her garden sleeps; Where, to her poet's turban stone, The Spring her gift of flowers imparts, Less sweet than those his thoughts have sown In the warm soil of Persian hearts: 'There sat the stranger, where the shade Of scattered date-trees thinly lay, While in the hot clear heaven delayed The long and still and weary day. Strange trees and fruits above him hung, Strange odors filled the sultry air, Strange birds upon the branches swung, Strange insect voices murmured there. And strange bright blossoms shone, around, Turned sunward from the shadowy bowers, As if the Gheber's soul had found A fitting home in, Iran's flowers. Whate'er he saw, whate'er he heard, Awakened feelings new and sad,--, No Christian'gatb, nor Christian word, Nor church with Sabbath-bell ¢himes glad, But Moslem graves, with turban stones, And mosque-spires gleaming white, in. view, And graybeard Mollahs in low tones Chanting their Koran service through. The flowers which smiled on either hand, Like tempting fiends, were such as they, Which once, o'er all that Eastern land, As gifts on demon altars lay. As if the burning eye of Baal The servant of his Conqueroy knew, From skies which knew no cloudy veil, The Sun's hot'glances smote him through, "Ah me!" the lonely stranger said, The Jiope which led my footsteps on, And light rom heaven around them shed, er weary wave and waste, is gone! Ee "Where are the harvest fields all white, For Truth to thrust her sickle in? Where flock the souls, like doves in flight, From the dark hiding-place of sin? "A silent horror broods o'er all, -- The burden of a hateful spell, -- The very flowers Around recall The hoary magi' of hell! "And what am I, o'er such a land The banner of the Cross. to bear? Dear Lord, uphold me with Thy hand, Thy strength with human weakness share" He ceased; for at his very feet In mild rebuke a floweret smiled; How thrilled his sinking heart to greet The Starflower of the Virgin's child | | ¥ Sown by some wandering Frank, it drew Its life from alien a earth, And told to Paynim sun and dew The story of the Saviour's birth. HEAR along our street Pass the minstrel throngs; Hark! they play sq sweet, On their hautboys, Christmas songs! Let us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expire! Songs on sim rang : In December rin There they stood with freezing feet, i Let us by the fire | Every day the chimes; E : Loud the gleemen si . . erg i! pi In the ee po. rhymes. Sing them till the night expire, i Sogn Nuns in frigid ell Sing them ill the night expire. ft his holy der ing die. : Christmas songs at times have tried, Let us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expirel Shepherds at the grange, Where the Bob va : Sang, with many a change, Christmas carols until morn, © Let-us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expire! Washerwomen old, To the sound they beat, Sing by rivers cold, With uncovered head and feet, Let us by the fire Ever hi Sing them till the night-expire. Who by the fireside stands Stamps his feet and sings; But he who blows his hands Not so gay a carol brings, Let us by the fire Ever higher : : Sing them till the night expire} ELL me what is this innumerable throng Singing in the heavens a loud angelic song? hr These are they who come with swift and shining feed From round about the throne of, God tha-Lord of 'Light so greel. OH, who are these that hasten beneath the stair sky, 'As if with joyful tidings that through the world shall fly? oh {The faithful shepherds these, who greatly were afeared | When, as they watched their flocks by might, the heavenly "host appeared, Who are these that follow across the hills of night = A star that westward hurries along the fields of light. Three wise men from the éast wha myrrh and' sreasurd n 3 Tolay them at the feet of, him thein'Lord and Chriss and ing. : AWhat babe new-born is this that in a manger cries? Near on her bed of pain his happy mother lies. Oh, see! the air is shaken with sohite und heavenly wings-- This is the Lord of all the earth, this js tha King of kings. , 4 iF \ Tell me, how may I join in this holy feast With all the in world, and I of all the least? «Fear not, O faithful heart, but bring what most is meets Bring love alons, true love alone, and lay is at his feet. | OEL! NOEL! 'V Thus sounds each Christmas bell 'Across the winter snow. But what are the little footprints all That mark the path from the churchyard wall? They are those of the children waked tonight From sleep by the Christmas bells and light : Ring sweetly, chimes] Soft, soft, my rhymes! Their beds are under the snow, 'Noel! Noel! Carols each Christmas bell. What are the wraiths of mist That gather anear the window-pane Where the winter frost all day has lain? _ "They are soulless elves, who fain would peer Within, and laugh at our Christmas cheer: Ring fleetly, chimes! Swift, swift, my rhymes} *. They are made of the mocking mist. Noel! Noel! ; 'Cease, cease, each Christmas bell! \ Under the holly Where the happy children and shout, What shadow seems to flit about J 'Is it the mother, then, who died Ere the were sere last Christmas-tide? ~ Hush, falling chimes! Cease, cease, my rhymesl * The guests are gathered now.

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