Produced by Jason Isbell, Sam W. and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
IN THE
YULE-LOG GLOW
CHRISTMAS POEMS FROM
'ROUND THE WORLD
"Sic as folk tell ower at a winter ingle"
_Scott_
EDITED BY
HARRISON S. MORRIS
IN FOUR BOOKS
Book IV.
PHILADELPHIA
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
1900.
[Illustration: Christmas Weather]
Copyright, 1891, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY.
PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.
ILLUSTRATIONS, BOOK IV.
CHRISTMAS WEATHER Frontispiece.
"WHAT CAN I GIVE HIM?" Page 90
THE SEASON'S REVERIES " 174
"TOO HAPPY, HAPPY TREE" " 212
CONTENTS OF BOOK IV.
SUNG UNDER THE WINDOW. PAGE
Who's There? 9
God Rest You Merry, Gentlemen 10
Welcome Yule 12
Angel Heralds 14
The Matchless Maiden 15
Remember, O Thou Man 16
The Singers in the Snow 19
A Christmas Chorus 21
Three Ships 22
Jacob's Ladder 24
Saint Stephen, the Clerk 26
The Carnal and the Crane 29
The Holy Well 35
The Holly and the Ivy 38
The Contest of the Vines 39
Ane Sang of the Birth of Christ 41
Christmas Minstrelsy 43
The Old, Old Story 47
A Christmas Ballad 49
A French Noël[A] 52
Masters, in this Hall 54
THE WORSHIP OF THE BABE.
To His Saviour, a Child; a Present, by a Child 59
Honor to the King 60
New Prince, New Pomp 62
Of the Epiphany 64
A Hymn for the Epiphany 66
A Hymn on the Nativity of My Saviour 68
At Christmas 70
New Heaven, New War 72
For Christmas Day 73
Sung to the King in the Presence at Whitehall 75
And They Laid Him in a Manger 77
The Burning Babe 79
Christ's Nativity 81
An Ode on the Birth of Our Saviour 83
Who Can Forget? 85
The Child Jesus 87
Long Ago 89
Star of Bethlehem 91
No Room 92
On Christmas Day 94
The Heavenly Choir 96
THE WASSAIL-BOWL.
Wassail 103
Invitation à Faire Noël 105
A Thanksgiving 107
Around the Wassail-Bowl 108
From Door to Door 111
Wassailing Carol 113
A Carol at the Gates 116
Wandering Wassailers 118
Bring Us in Good Ale 120
About the Board 122
Before the Feast 123
A Bill of Christmas Fare 125
The Mahogany-Tree 126
A Christmas Ceremony 129
With Cakes and Ale 129
The Masque of Christmas 130
SANTA CLAUS.
A Visit from St. Nicholas 145
The Hard Times in Elfland[B] 148
Old Christmas 156
Mrs. Santa Claus 158
Santa Claus to Little Ethel 163
THE SEASON'S REVERIES.
Guests at Yule 169
Christmas in India 171
Christmas Violets 174
Dickens Returns on Christmas Day 175
A Grief at Christmas 176
My Sister's Sleep 183
Christmas in Edinborough. I. 186
Christmas in Edinborough. II. 187
Around the Christmas Lamp 188
Christmas Eve 189
Wonderland 190
Waiting 192
Aunt Mary 193
The Glad New Day 195
Under the Holly Bough 196
The Dawn of Christmas 198
Ballade of Christmas Ghosts 200
The Village Christmas 202
Winter 203
December 204
Christmas Weather in Scotland 205
Sir Galahad 212
A Thought for the Time 213
Ballade of the Winter Fireside 214
A Catch by the Hearth 216
Sally in Our Alley 217
Little Mother 218
Occident and Orient 220
The Blessed Day 225
Christmas in Cuba[C] 227
Farewell to Christmas 229
The New Year 231
A Happy New Year 234
New-Year's Gifts 236
The End of the Play 238
Finis 240
FOOTNOTES:
[A] By the courtesy of Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co.
[B] By the courtesy of Messrs. Charles Scribners' Sons.
[C] By the courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Bros.
_Sung Under The Window._
"This carol they began that hour
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino!"
_Shakespeare._
WHO'S THERE?
Nowell, nowell, nowell, nowell,
Who ys there that syngith so, nowell, nowell, nowell?
I am here, syre Christmasse!
Well come, my lord syre Christmasse,
Welcome to us all, bothe more and lesse,
Come nere, nowell!
Dieu vous garde, beau syre, tydinges you bryng:
A mayd hath born a chylde full yong,
The weche causeth yew for to syng,
Nowell!
Criste is now born of a pure mayde,
In an oxe stalle he ys layde,
Wher'for syng we alle atte abrayde
Nowell!
Bebbex bien par tutte la company,
Make gode chere and be right mery,
And syng with us now joyfully,
Nowell!
GOD REST YOU MERRY, GENTLEMEN.
God rest you merry, gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
For Jesus Christ our Saviour
Was born upon this day
To save us all from Satan's power
When we were gone astray.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
For Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day.
In Bethlehem in Jewry
This blessed babe was born,
And laid within a manger
Upon this blessed morn;
The which His mother Mary
Nothing did take in scorn.
O tidings, etc.
From God our Heavenly Father
A blessed angel came,
And unto certain shepherds
Brought tidings of the same,
How that in Bethlehem was born
The Son of God by name.
O tidings, etc.
Fear not, then said the angel,
Let nothing you affright,
This day is born a Saviour
Of virtue, power, and might;
So frequently to vanquish all
The friends of Satan quite.
O tidings, etc.
The shepherds at those tidings
Rejoicéd much in mind,
And left their flocks a-feeding
In tempest, storm, and wind,
And went to Bethlehem straightway
This blessed babe to find.
O tidings, etc.
But when to Bethlehem they came,
Whereat this infant lay,
They found Him in a manger
Where oxen feed on hay;
His mother Mary kneeling
Unto the Lord did pray.
O tidings, etc.
Now to the Lord sing praises,
All you within this place,
And with true love and brotherhood
Each other now embrace;
This holy tide of Christmas
All others doth deface.
O tidings, etc.
WELCOME YULE.
_Welcome Yule, thou merry man,_
_In worship of this holy day._
Welcome be thou, heaven-king,
Welcome born in one morning,
Welcome for whom we shall sing,
Welcome Yule.
Welcome be ye, Stephen and John,
Welcome Innocents, every one,
Welcome Thomas Martyr one,
Welcome Yule.
Welcome be ye, good New Year,
Welcome Twelfth Day, both in fere,[D]
Welcome saintés lef[E] and dear,
Welcome Yule.
Welcome be ye, Candlemas,
Welcome be ye, Queen of Bliss,
Welcome both to more and less,
Welcome Yule.
Welcome be ye that are here,
Welcome all and make good cheer;
Welcome all, another year,
Welcome Yule.
_Ritson's Ancient Songs._
FOOTNOTES:
[D] Together.
[E] Loved.
ANGEL HERALDS.
As Joseph was a-walking,
He heard an angel sing:
"This night shall be born
Our Heavenly King;
"He neither shall be born
In housen nor in hall,
Nor in the place of Paradise,
But in an ox's stall;
"He neither shall be clothéd
In purple nor in pall,
But all in fair linen,
As we were babies all.
"He neither shall be rocked
In silver nor in gold,
But in a wooden cradle
That rocks on the mould.
"He neither shall be christened
In white wine nor in red,
But with fair spring-water
With which we were christenéd."
THE MATCHLESS MAIDEN.
I sing of a maiden
That is makeless;[F]
King of all kings
To her son she ches;[G]
He came also[H] still
There His mother was,
As dew in April
That falleth on the grass.
He came also still
To His mother's bower,
As dew in April
That falleth on the flower.
He came also still
There His mother lay,
As dew in April
That falleth on the spray.
Mother and maiden
Was never none but she;
Well may such a lady
God's mother be.
_Wright's Songs and Carols._
FOOTNOTES:
[F] Matchless.
[G] Chose.
[H] As.
REMEMBER, O THOU MAN.
Remember, O thou Man,
O thou Man, O thou Man;
Remember, O thou Man,
Thy time is spent.
Remember, O thou Man,
How thou earnest to me then,
And I did what I can,
Therefore repent.
Remember Adam's fall,
O thou Man, O thou Man;
Remember Adam's fall
From Heaven to Hell.
Remember Adam's fall,
How we were condemnéd all
To Hell perpetual,
There for to dwell.
Remember God's goodness,
O thou Man, O thou Man;
Remember God's goodness
And promise made.
Remember God's goodness,
How His only Son He sent
Our sins for to redress,
Be not afraid.
The Angels all did sing,
O thou Man, O thou Man;
The Angels all did sing
On Sion hill.
The Angels all did sing
Praises to our heavenly king,
And peace to man living,
With right good-will.
The Shepherds amazed was,
O thou Man, O thou Man;
The Shepherds amazed was
To hear the angels sing.
The Shepherds amazed was
How this should come to pass,
That Christ our Messias
Should be our King.
To Bethlehem did they go,
O thou Man, O thou Man;
To Bethlehem did they go
This thing to see.
To Bethlehem did they go
To see whether it was so,
Whether Christ was born or no,
To set us free.
As the Angels before did say,
O thou Man, O thou Man;
As the Angels before did say,
So it came to pass.
As the Angels before did say,
They found Him wrapt in hay
In a manger where He lay,
So poor He was.
In Bethlehem was He born,
O thou Man, O thou Man;
In Bethlehem was He born
For mankind dear.
In Bethlehem was He born
For us that were forlorn,
And therefore took no scorn
Our sins to bear.
In a manger laid He was,
O thou Man, O thou Man;
In a manger laid He was
At this time present.
In a manger laid He was
Between an ox and an ass,
And all for our trespass,
Therefore repent.
Give thanks to God always,
O thou Man, O thou Man;
Give thanks to God always
With hearts most jolly.
Give thanks to God always
Upon this blessed day,
Let all men sing and say,
Holy, Holy.
_Ravenscroft's Melismata, A.D. 1611._
THE SINGERS IN THE SNOW.
God bless the master of this house
And all that are therein,
And to begin this Christmas tide
With mirth now let us sing.
For the Saviour of all people
Upon this time was born,
Who did from death deliver us.
When we were left forlorn.
Then let us all most merry be,
And sing with cheerful voice,
For we have good occasion now
This time for to rejoice.
For, etc.
Then put away contention all,
And fall no more at strife,
Let every man with cheerfulness
Embrace his loving wife.
For, etc.
With plenteous food your houses store,
Provide some wholesome cheer,
And call your friends together
That live both far and near.
For, etc.
Then let us all most merry be,
Since that we are come here,
And we do hope before we part
To taste some of your beer.
For, etc.
Your beer, your beer, your Christmas beer,
That seems to be so strong;
And we do wish that Christmas-tide
Was twenty times so long.
For, etc.
Then sing with voices cheerfully,
For Christ this time was born,
Who did from death deliver us,
When we were left forlorn.
For, etc.
A CHRISTMAS CHORUS.
Here is joy for every age--
Every generation;
Prince and peasant, chief and sage,
Every tongue and nation,
Every tongue and nation,
Every rank and station,
Hath to-day salvation.
Alleluia!
When the world drew near its close,
Came our Lord and leader;
From the lily came the rose,
From the bush the cedar,
From the bush the cedar,
From the judge the pleader,
From the saint the feeder.
Alleluia!
God, that came on earth this morn,
In a manger lying,
Hallow'd birth by being born,
Vanquished death by dying,
Vanquished death by dying,
Rallied back the flying,
Ended sin and sighing.
Alleluia!
THREE SHIPS.
I saw three ships come sailing in,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day;
I saw three ships come sailing in,
On Christmas day in the morning.
And what was in those ships all three,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day?
And what was in those ships all three,
On Christmas day in the morning?
Our Saviour Christ and His lady,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day;
Our Saviour Christ and His lady,
On Christmas day in the morning.
Pray whither sailed those ships all three,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day?
Pray whither sailed those ships all three,
On Christmas day in the morning?
O they sailed into Bethlehem,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day,
O they sailed into Bethlehem,
On Christmas day in the morning.
And all the bells on earth shall ring,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day;
And all the bells on earth shall ring,
On Christmas day in the morning.
And all the angels in heaven shall sing,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day;
And all the angels in heaven shall sing,
On Christmas day in the morning.
And all the souls on earth shall sing,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day;
And all the souls on earth shall sing,
On Christmas day in the morning.
Then let us all rejoice amain,
On Christmas day, on Christmas day;
Then let us all rejoice amain,
On Christmas day in the morning.
JACOB'S LADDER.
As Jacob with travel was weary one day,
At night on a stone for a pillow he lay;
He saw in a vision a ladder so high
That its foot was on earth and its top in the sky.
Hallelujah to Jesus, who died on the tree,
And hath rais'd up a ladder of mercy for me.
This ladder is high, it is strong and well made,
Hath stood hundreds of years and is not yet decayed;
Many millions have climbed it and reached Zion's hill,
And thousands, by faith, are climbing it still.
Hallelujah, etc.
Come, let us ascend, all may climb it who will,
For the angels of Jacob are guarding it still;
And remember each step that by faith we pass o'er,
Some prophet or martyr hath trod it before.
Hallelujah, etc.
And when we arrive at the haven of rest,
We shall hear the glad word: Come up hither, ye blest!
Here are regions of light, here are mansions of bliss,
Oh, who would not climb such a ladder as this?
Hallelujah, etc.
SAINT STEPHEN, THE CLERK.
Saint Stephen was a clerk
In King Herod's hall,
And servéd him of bread and cloth
As ever king befall.
Stephen out of kitchen came
With boar's head on hand,
He saw a star was fair and bright
Over Bethlehem stand.
He kist adown the boar's head
And went into the hall:
"I forsake thee, King Herod,
And thy workés all.
"I forsake thee, King Herod,
And thy workés all;
There is a child in Bethlehem born
Is better than we all."
"What aileth thee, Stephen?
What is thee befall?
Lacketh thee either meat or drink
In King Herod's hall?"
"Lacketh me neither meat ne drink
In King Herod's hall;
There is a child in Bethlehem born
Is better than we all."
"What aileth thee, Stephen?
Art thou wode,[I] or thou ginnest to breed?[J]
Lacketh thee either gold or fee,
Or any rich weed?"[K]
"Lacketh me neither gold nor fee,
Ne none rich weed;
There is a child in Bethlehem born
Shall helpen us at our need."
"That is also sooth,[L] Stephen,
Also sooth i-wis
As this capon crowé shall
That lieth here in my dish."
That word was not so soon said,
That word in that hall,
The capon crew _Christus natus est_
Among the lordés all.
"Riseth up, my tormentors,
By two and all by one,
And leadeth Stephen out of this town,
And stoneth him with stone."
Tooken they Stephen
And stoned him in the way,
And therefore is his even
On Christés own day.
FOOTNOTES:
[I] Mad.
[J] Scold.
[K] Dress.
[L] As true.
THE CARNAL AND THE CRANE.
As I pass'd by a riverside,
And there as I did reign,[M]
In argument I chanced to hear
A Carnal[N] and a Crane.
The Carnal said unto the Crane,
If all the world should turn,
Before we had the Father,
But now we have the Son!
From whence does the Son come?
From where and from what place?
He said, In a manger,
Between an ox and ass!
I pray thee, said the Carnal,
Tell me before thou go,
Was not the mother of Jesus
Conceived by the Holy Ghost?
She was the purest Virgin,
And the cleanest from sin;
She was the handmaid of our Lord,
And mother of our King.
Where is the golden cradle
That Christ was rockéd in?
Where are the silken sheets
That Jesus was wrapt in?
A manger was the cradle
That Christ was rockéd in;
The provender the asses left
So sweetly He slept on.
There was a star in the West-land,
So bright did it appear
Into King Herod's chamber,
And where King Herod were.
The Wise Men soon espied it,
And told the king on high,
A princely babe was born that night
No king could e'er destroy.
If this be true, King Herod said,
As thou tellest unto me,
This roasted cock that lies in the dish
Shall crow full fences[O] three.
The cock soon freshly feathered was
By the work of God's own hand,
And then three fences crowéd he
In the dish where he did stand.
Rise up, rise up, you merry men all,
See that you ready be,
All children under two years old
Now slain they all shall be.
Then Jesus, ah! and Joseph,
And Mary that was so pure,
They travelled into Egypt,
As you shall find it sure.
And when they came to Egypt's land,
Amongst those fierce wild beasts,
Mary, she being weary,
Must needs sit down to rest.
Come sit thee down, says Jesus,
Come sit thee down by me,
And thou shalt see how these wild beasts
Do come and worship me.
First came the lovely lion,
Which Jesu's grace did spring,
And of the wild beasts in the field,
The lion shall be the king.
We'll choose our virtuous princes,
Of birth and high degree,
In every sundry nation,
Where'er we come and see.
Then Jesus, ah! and Joseph,
And Mary, that was unknown,
They travelled by a husbandman,
Just while his seed was sown.
God speed thee, man! said Jesus,
Go fetch thy ox and wain,
And carry home thy corn again
Which thou this day hast sown.
The husbandman fell on his knees,
Even before his face;
Long time hast Thou been looked for,
But now Thou art come at last.
And I myself do now believe
Thy name is Jesus called;
Redeemer of mankind Thou art,
Though undeserving all.
The truth, man, thou hast spoken,
Of it thou may'st be sure,
For I must lose my precious blood
For thee and thousands more.
If any one should come this way,
And inquire for me alone,
Tell them that Jesus passed by,
As thou thy seed did sow.
After that there came King Herod,
With his train so furiously,
Inquiring of the husbandman,
Whether Jesus passed by.
Why, the truth it must be spoke,
And the truth it must be known,
For Jesus passéd by this way
When my seed was sown.
But now I have it reapen,
And some laid on my wain,
Ready to fetch and carry
Into my barn again.
Turn back, says the captain,
Your labor and mine's in vain,
It's full three-quarters of a year
Since he his seed sown.
So Herod was deceivéd
By the work of God's own hand,
And further he proceeded
Into the Holy Land.
There's thousands of children young,
Which for His sake did die;
Do not forbid those little ones,
And do not them deny.
The truth now I have spoken,
And the truth now I have shown,
Even the blessed Virgin,
She's now brought forth a Son.
FOOTNOTES:
[M] Run.
[N] Crow.
[O] Rounds.
THE HOLY WELL.
As it fell out one May morning,
And upon one bright holiday,
Sweet Jesus asked of His dear mother,
If He might go to play.
To play, to play, sweet Jesus shall go,
And to play pray get you gone;
And let me hear of no complaint
At night when you come home.
Sweet Jesus went down to yonder town
As far as the Holy Well,
And there did see as fine children
As any tongue can tell.
He said, God bless you every one,
And your bodies Christ save and see:
Little children, shall I play with you,
And you shall play with me?
But they made answer to Him, No:
They were lords' and ladies' sons;
And He, the meanest of them all,
Was but a maiden's child, born in an ox's stall.
Sweet Jesus turned Him around,
And He neither laughed nor smiled,
But the tears came trickling from His eyes
Like water from the skies.
Sweet Jesus turned Him about,
To His mother's dear home went He,
And said, I have been in yonder town,
As far as you can see.
I have been down in yonder town
As far as the Holy Well,
There did I meet as fine children
As any tongue can tell.
I bid God bless them every one,
And their bodies Christ save and see:
Little children, shall I play with you,
And you shall play with me?
But they made answer to me, No:
They were lords' and ladies' sons;
And I, the meanest of them all,
Was but a maiden's child, born in an ox's stall.
Though you are but a maiden's child,
Born in an ox's stall,
Thou art the Christ, the King of heaven,
And the Saviour of them all.
Sweet Jesus, go down to yonder town
As far as the Holy Well,
And take away those sinful souls,
And dip them deep in hell.
Nay, nay, sweet Jesus said,
Nay, nay, that may not be;
For there are too many sinful souls
Crying out for the help of me.
THE HOLLY AND THE IVY.
The Holly and the Ivy,
Now both are full well grown;
Of all the trees that spring in wood,
The holly bears the crown.
The holly bears a blossom
As white as a lily flow'r;
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
To be our sweet Saviour.
The holly bears a berry
As red as any blood,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
To do poor sinners good.
The holly bears a prickle
As sharp as any thorn,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
On Christmas Day in the morn.
The holly bears a bark
As bitter as any gall,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
For to redeem us all.
The holly and the ivy
Now are both well grown;
Of all the trees that are in the wood,
The holly bears the crown.
THE CONTEST OF THE VINES.
Nay, ivy, nay,
It shall not be, I wis;
Let holly have the mastery,
As the manner is.
Holly stand in the hall,
Fair to behold;
Ivy stand without the door,
She is full sore a-cold.
Nay, ivy, nay, etc.
Holly and his merry men
They dancen and they sing;
Ivy and her maidens
They weepen and they wring.
Nay, ivy, nay, etc.
Ivy hath a kybe,[P]
She caught it with the cold;
So mot they all have ae,[Q]
That with ivy hold.
Nay, ivy, nay, etc.
Holly hath berries
As red as any rose,
The forester and the hunters
Keep them from the does.
Nay, ivy, nay, etc.
Ivy hath berries
As black as any sloe;
There come the owl
And eat him as she go.
Nay, ivy, nay, etc.
Holly hath birdés
A full fair flock,
The nightingale, the popinjay,
The gentle laverock.
Nay, ivy, nay, etc.
Good ivy,
What birdés hast thou?
None but the howlet
That krey[R] "How, how."
Nay, ivy, nay,
It shall not be, I wis;
Let holly have the mastery,
As the manner is.
FOOTNOTES:
[P] Chapped skin.
[Q] So may all have.
[R] Cries.
ANE SANG OF THE BIRTH OF CHRIST.
A SCOTCH CAROL.
I come from hevin to tell
The best nowellis that ever befell;
To you this tythinges trew I bring,
And I will of them say and sing:
This day to yow is borne ane childe
Of Marie meike and Virgine mylde,
That blessit barne, bining and kynde,
Sall yow rejoyce baith heart and mynd.
My saull and lyfe, stand up and see
Quha lyes in ane cribe of tree,
Quhat babe is that, so gude and faire?
It is Christ, God's sonne and aire.
O God, that made all creature,
How art Thow becum so pure,
That on the hay and stray will lye
Amang the asses, oxin, and kye!
O my deir hert, young Jesus sweit,
Prepare Thy creddill in my spreit,
And I sall rocke Thee in my hert,
And never mair from Thee depart.
But I sall praise Thee evermoir
With sangs sweit unto Thy gloir,
The knees of my hert sall I bow,
And sing that right Balululow.
CHRISTMAS MINSTRELSY.
The minstrels played their Christmas tune
To-night beneath my cottage eaves;
While smitten by a lofty moon,
The encircling laurels thick with leaves,
Gave back a rich and dazzling sheen,
That overpowered their natural green.
Through hill and valley every breeze
Had sunk to rest with folded wings:
Keen was the air, but could not freeze
Nor check the music of the strings;
So stout and hardy were the band
That scraped the chords with strenuous hand.
And who but listened?--till was paid
Respect to every inmate's claim,
The greeting given, the music played
In honor of each household name,
Duly pronounced with lusty call,
And a merry Christmas wished to all.
O Brother! I revere the choice
That took thee from thy native hills;
And it is given thee to rejoice:
Though public care full often tills
(Heaven only witness of the toil)
A barren and ungrateful soil.
Yet would that thou, with me and mine,
Hadst heard this never-failing rite;
And seen on other faces shine
A true revival of the light
Which nature, and these rustic powers,
In simple childhood, spread through ours!
For pleasure hath not ceased to wait
On these expected annual rounds,
Whether the rich man's sumptuous gate
Call forth the unelaborate sounds,
Or they are offered at the door
That guard the lowliest of the poor.
How touching, when at midnight sweep
Snow-muffled winds, and all is dark,
To hear--and sink again in sleep!
Or at an earlier call, to mark,
By blazing fire, the still suspense
Of self-complacent innocence;
The mutual nod--the grave disguise
Of hearts with gladness brimming o'er,
And some unhidden tears that rise
For names once heard, and heard no more;
Tears brightened by the serenade
For infant in the cradle laid!
Ah! not for emerald fields alone,
With ambient streams more pure and bright
Than fabled Cytherea's zone
Glittering before the Thunderer's sight,
Is to my heart of hearts endeared,
The ground where we were born and reared!
Hail, ancient manners! sure defence,
Where they survive, of wholesome laws:
Remnants of love whose modest sense
Thus into narrow room withdraws;
Hail, usages of pristine mould,
And ye that guard them, Mountains old!
Bear with me, Brother! quench the thought
That slights this passion or condemns;
If thee fond fancy ever brought
From the proud margin of the Thames,
And Lambeth's venerable towers,
To humble streams and greener bowers.
Yes, they can make, who fail to find
Short leisure even in busiest days,
Moments to cast a look behind,
And profit by those kindly rays
That through the clouds do sometimes steal,
And all the far-off past reveal.
Hence, while the imperial city's din
Beats frequent on thy satiate ear,
A pleased attention I may win
To agitations less severe,
That neither overwhelm nor cloy,
But fill the hollow vale with joy!
_William Wordsworth._
THE OLD, OLD STORY.
Listen, Lordings, unto me, a tale I will you tell,
Which, as on this night of glee, in David's town befell.
Joseph came from Nazareth, with Mary that sweet maid;
Weary were they, nigh to death; and for a lodging pray'd.
Sing high, sing high, sing low, sing low,
Sing high, sing low, sing to and fro,
Go tell it out with speed,
Cry out and shout all round about,
That Christ is born indeed.
In the inn they found no room; a scanty bed they made:
Soon a Babe from Mary's womb was in the manger laid.
Forth He came as light through glass: He came to save us all,
In the stable ox and ass before their Maker fall.
Sing high, sing low, etc.
Shepherds lay afield that night, to keep the silly sheep,
Hosts of angels in their sight came down from heaven's high steep.
Tidings! tidings! unto you: to you a Child is born,
Purer than the drops of dew, and brighter than the morn.
Sing high, sing low, etc.
Onward then the angels sped, the shepherds onward went,
God was in His manger bed, in worship low they bent.
In the morning see ye mind, my masters one and all,
At the altar Him to find who lay within the stall.
Sing high, sing low, etc.
_H. R. Bramley._
A CHRISTMAS BALLAD.
Outlanders, whence come ye last?
_The snow in the street and the wind on the door._
Through what green sea 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 hope do ye 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 a 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._
_William Morris._
A FRENCH NOËL.
(TRANSLATED FROM GUI BARÔZAI.)
I hear along our street
Pass the minstrel throngs;
Hark! they play so sweet,
On their hautboys, Christmas songs!
Let us by the fire
Ever higher
Sing them till the night expire!
In December ring
Every day the chimes;
Loud the gleemen sing
In the streets their merry rhymes.
Let us by the fire, etc.
Shepherds at the grange,
Where the Babe was born,
Sang, with many a change,
Christmas carols until morn.
Let us by the fire, etc.
These good people sang
Songs devout and sweet;
While the rafters rang
There they stood with freezing feet.
Let us by the fire, etc.
Nuns in frigid cells
At this holy tide
For want of something else
Christmas songs at times have tried.
Let us by the fire, etc.
Washerwomen old,
To the sound they beat,
Sing by rivers cold
With uncovered heads and feet.
Let us by the fire, etc.
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, etc.
_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow._
MASTERS, IN THIS HALL.
"To Bethl'em did they go, the shepherds three;
To Bethl'em did they go to see whe'r it were so or no,
Whether Christ were born or no
To set men free."
Masters, in this hall,
Hear ye news to-day
Brought over sea,
And ever I you pray.
_Nowell! Nowell! Nowell! Nowell!_
_Sing we clear!_
_Holpen are all folk on earth,_
_Born is God's Son so dear._
Going over the hills,
Through the milk-white snow,
Heard I ewes bleat
While the winds did blow.
_Nowell, etc._
Shepherds many an one
Sat among the sheep;
No man spake more word
Than they had been asleep.
_Nowell, etc._
Quoth I, "Fellows mine,
Why this guise sit ye?
Making but dull cheer,
Shepherds though ye be?
_Nowell, etc._
"Shepherds should of right
Leap, and dance, and sing;
Thus to see you sit
Is a right strange thing."
_Nowell, etc._
Quoth these fellows three,
"To Bethl'em town we go,
To see a Mighty Lord
Lie in manger low."
_Nowell, etc._
"How name ye this Lord,
Shepherds?" then said I.
"Very God," they said,
"Come from Heaven high."
_Nowell, etc._
Then to Bethl'em town
We went two and two,
And in a sorry place
Heard the oxen low.
_Nowell, etc._
Therein did we see
A sweet and goodly May,
And a fair old man;
Upon the straw she lay.
_Nowell, etc._
And a little Child
On her arm had she;
"Wot ye who is this?"
Said the hinds to me.
_Nowell, etc._
Ox and ass Him know,
Kneeling on their knee:
Wondrous joy had I
This little Babe to see.
_Nowell, etc._
This is Christ the Lord:
Masters, be ye glad!
Christmas is come in,
And no folk should be sad.
_Nowell, etc._
_William Morris._
_The Worship Of The Babe._
"Rejoice, our Saviour He was born
On Christmas day in the morning."
_Old Carol._
TO HIS SAVIOUR, A CHILD; A PRESENT, BY A CHILD.
Go, pretty child, and bear this flower
Unto thy little Saviour;
And tell Him by that bud now blown,
He is a Rose of Sharon known.
When thou hast said so, stick it there
Upon His bib or stomacher;
And tell Him, for good handsel too,
That thou hast brought a whistle new,
Made of a clean, strait oaten reed
To charm His cries at time of need.
Tell Him for coral thou hast none,
But if thou had'st He should have one;
But poor thou art, and known to be
Even as moneyless as He.
Lastly, if thou can'st win a kiss
From those mellifluous lips of His,
Then never take a second on
To spoil the first impression.
_Robert Herrick._
HONOR TO THE KING.
Yet if his majesty our sovereign lord
Should of his own accord
Friendly himself invite,
And say, "I'll be your guest to-morrow night,"
How should we stir ourselves, call and command
All hands to work: "Let no man idle stand.
Set me fine Spanish tables in the hall,
See they be fitted all;
Let there be room to eat,
And order taken that there want no meat.
See every sconce and candlestick made bright,
That without tapers they may give a light.
Look to the presence; are the carpets spread,
The dais o'er the head,
The cushions in the chairs,
And all the candles lighted on the stairs?
Perfume the chambers, and in any case
Let each man give attendance in his place."
Thus if the king were coming would we do,
And 'twere good reason too;
For 'tis a duteous thing
To show all honor to an earthly king,
And after all our travail and our cost,
So he be pleased, to think no labor lost.
But at the coming of the King of Heaven,
All's set at six and seven:
We wallow in our sin,
Christ cannot find a chamber in the inn.
We entertain Him always like a stranger,
And, as at first, still lodge Him in the manger.
_Christ Church, Oxford, MS._
NEW PRINCE, NEW POMP.
Behold a silly, tender Babe,
In freezing winter night,
In homely manger trembling lies;
Alas! a piteous sight.
The inns are full, no man will yield
This little pilgrim bed;
But forced He is with silly beasts
In crib to shroud His head.
Despise Him not for lying there,
First what He is inquire;
An orient pearl is often found
In depth of dirty mire.
Weigh not His crib, His wooden dish,
Nor beast that by Him feed;
Weigh not His mother's poor attire,
Nor Joseph's simple weed.
This stable is a prince's court,
This crib His chair of state;
The beasts are parcel of His pomp,
The wooden dish His plate.
The persons in that poor attire
His royal liveries wear;
The Prince himself is come from heaven,
This pomp is praiséd there.
With joy approach, O Christian wight!
Do homage to thy King;
And highly praise this humble pomp
Which He from heaven doth bring.
_Robert Southwell._
OF THE EPIPHANY.
Fair eastern star, that art ordained to run
Before the sages, to the rising sun,
Here cease thy course, and wonder that the cloud
Of this poor stable can thy Maker shroud:
Ye heavenly bodies glory to be bright,
And are esteemed as ye are rich in light;
But here on earth is taught a different way,
Since under this low roof the Highest lay.
Jerusalem erects her stately towers,
Displays her windows and adorns her bowers;
Yet there thou must not cast a trembling spark,
Let Herod's palace still continue dark;
Each school and synagogue thy force repels,
There pride enthroned in misty error dwells;
The temple, where the priests maintain their quire,
Shall taste no beam of thy celestial fire,
While this weak cottage all thy splendor takes:
A joyful gate of every chink it makes.
Here shines no golden roof, no ivory stair,
No king exalted in a stately chair,
Girt with attendants, or by heralds styled,
But straw and hay enwrap a speechless child.
Yet Sabæ's lords before this babe unfold
Their treasures, offering incense, myrrh, and gold.
The crib becomes an altar; therefore dies
No ox nor sheep; for in their fodder lies
The Prince of Peace, who, thankful for His bed,
Destroys those rites in which their blood was shed:
The quintessence of earth He takes, and fees,
And precious gums distilled from weeping trees;
Rich metals and sweet odors now declare
The glorious blessings which His laws prepare,
To clear us from the base and loathsome flood
Of sense and make us fit for angel's food,
Who lift to God for us the holy smoke
Of fervent prayers with which we Him invoke,
And try our actions in the searching fire
By which the seraphims our lips inspire:
No muddy dross pure minerals shall infect,
We shall exhale our vapors up direct:
No storm shall cross, nor glittering lights deface
Perpetual sighs which seek a happy place.
_Sir John Beaumont._
A HYMN FOR THE EPIPHANY.
SUNG AS BY THE THREE KINGS.
_1 King._ Bright Babe! whose awful beauties make
The morn incur a sweet mistake;
_2 King._ For whom the officious heavens devise
To disinherit the sun's rise;
_3 King._ Delicately to displace
The day, and plant it fairer in Thy face;
_1 King._ O Thou born King of loves!
_2 King._ Of lights!
_3 King._ Of joys!
_Chorus._ Look up, sweet Babe, look up and see!
For love of Thee,
Thus far from home
The East is come
To seek herself in Thy sweet eyes.
_1 King._ We who strangely went astray,
Lost in a bright
Meridian night;
_2 King._ A darkness made of too much day;
_3 King._ Beckoned from far
By Thy fair star,
Lo, at last have found our way.
_Chorus._ To Thee, Thou Day of Night! Thou East of West!
Lo, we at last have found the way
To Thee, the world's great universal East,
The general and indifferent day.
_1 King._ All-circling point! all-centring sphere!
The world's one round eternal year:
_2 King._ Whose full and all-unwrinkled face
Nor sinks nor swells with time or place;
_3 King._ But everywhere and every while
Is one consistent solid smile,
_1 King._ Not vexed and tost,
_2 King._ 'Twixt spring and frost;
_3 King._ Nor by alternate shreds of light;
Sordidly shifting hands with shades and night.
_Chorus._ O little All, in Thy embrace,
The world lies warm and likes his place;
Nor does his full globe fail to be
Kissed on both his cheeks by Thee;
Time is too narrow for Thy year,
Nor makes the whole world Thy half-sphere.
_Richard Crashaw._
A HYMN ON THE NATIVITY OF MY SAVIOUR.
I sing the birth was born to-night,
The author both of life and light;
The angels so did sound it.
And like the ravished shepherds said,
Who saw the light, and were afraid,
Yet searched, and true they found it.
The Son of God th' eternal king,
That did us all salvation bring,
And freed the soul from danger;
He whom the whole world could not take,
The Word, which heaven and earth did make,
Was now laid in a manger.
The Father's wisdom willed it so,
The Son's obedience knew no No,
Both wills were in one stature;
And as that wisdom had decreed,
The Word was now made flesh indeed,
And took on Him our nature.
What comfort by Him do we win,
Who made himself the price of sin,
To make us heirs of glory!
To see this babe all innocence;
A martyr born in our defence;
Can man forget the story?
_Ben Jonson._
AT CHRISTMAS.
All after pleasures as I rid one day,
My horse and I both tried, body and mind,
With full cry of affections quite astray,
I took up in the next inn I could find.
There, when I came, whom found I but my dear--
My dearest Lord; expecting till the grief
Of pleasures brought me to Him; ready there
To be all passengers' most sweet relief?
O Thou, whose glorious, yet contracted light,
Wrapt in night's mantle, stole into a manger;
Since my dark soul and brutish is Thy right,
To man, of all beasts, be not Thou a stranger;
Furnish and deck my soul, that Thou may'st have
A better lodging than a rock or grave.
The shepherds sing; and shall I silent be?
My God, no hymn for Thee?
My soul's a shepherd too; a flock it feeds
Of thoughts and words and deeds;
The pasture is Thy word, the stream Thy grace,
Enriching every place.
Shepherd and flock shall sing, and all my powers
Outsing the daylight hours.
Then we will chide the sun for letting night
Take up his place and right:
We sing one common Lord; wherefore He should
Himself the candle hold.
I will go searching till I find a sun
Shall stay till we have done;
A willing shiner, that shall shine as gladly
As frost-nipt suns look sadly,
Then we will sing and shine all our own day,
And one another pay.
His beams shall cheer my breast; and both so twine,
Till ev'n his beams sing and my music shine.
_George Herbert._
NEW HEAVEN, NEW WAR.
Come to your heaven, you heavenly quires!
Earth hath the heaven of your desires;
Remove your dwelling to your God,
A stall is now His blest abode;
Sith men their homage do deny,
Come, angels, all their fault supply.
This little Babe, so few days old,
Is come to rifle Satan's fold;
All hell doth at His presence quake,
Though He himself for cold do shake;
For in this weak, unarméd wise
The gates of hell He will surprise.
My soul, with Christ join thou in fight;
Stick to the tents that He hath pight;
Within His crib is surest ward,
This little Babe will be thy guard;
If thou wilt foil thy foes with joy,
Then flit not from this heavenly Boy.
_Robert Southwell._
FOR CHRISTMAS DAY.
Rejoice, rejoice, with heart and voice!
In Christé's birth this day rejoice!
From Virgin's womb this day did spring
The precious seed that only savéd man;
This day let man rejoice and sweetly sing,
Since on this day salvation first began.
This day did Christ man's soul from death remove,
With glorious saints to dwell in heaven above.
This day to man came pledge of perfect peace,
This day to man came perfect unity,
This day man's grief began for to surcease,
This day did man receive a remedy
For each offence and every deadly sin,
With guilty heart that erst he wandered in.
In Christé's flock let love be surely placed,
From Christé's flock let concord hate expel,
Of Christé's flock let love be so embraced
As we in Christ and Christ in us may dwell;
Christ is the author of all unity,
From whence proceedeth all felicity.
O sing unto this glittering, glorious king,
O praise His name let every living thing;
Let heart and voice, like bells of silver, ring
The comfort that this day doth bring;
Let lute, let shawm, with sound of sweet delight,
The joy of Christé's birth this day recite.
_Francis Kinwelmersh, A.D. 1576._
SUNG TO THE KING IN THE PRESENCE AT WHITEHALL.
_Chor._--What sweeter music can we bring,
Than a carol for to sing
The birth of this our heavenly King?
Awake the voice! awake the string!
Heart, ear, and eye, and everything
Awake! the while the active finger
Runs divisions with the singer.
_From the flourish they come to the song._
Dark and dull night, fly hence away,
And give the honor to this day,
That sees December turn'd to May.
If we may ask the reason, say
The why and wherefore all things here
Seem like the spring-time of the year?
Why does the chilling winter's morn
Smile like a field beset with corn?
Or smell like to a mead new-shorn,
Thus on the sudden? Come and see
The cause why things thus fragrant be:
'Tis He is born whose quickening birth
Gives life and lustre public mirth
To heaven and the under-earth.
_Chor._--We see Him come, and know Him ours,
Who with His sunshine and His showers
Turns all the patient ground to flowers.
The darling of the world is come,
And fit it is we find a room
To welcome Him. The nobler part
Of all the house here is the heart.
_Chor._--Which we will give Him; and bequeath
This holly and this ivy wreath,
To do Him honor, who's our King,
And Lord of all this revelling.
_Robert Herrick._
AND THEY LAID HIM IN A MANGER.
Happy crib, that wert alone
To my God, bed, cradle, throne!
Whilst thy glorious vileness I
View with divine fancy's eye,
Sordid filth seems all the cost,
State, and splendor, crowns do boast.
See heaven's sacred majesty
Humbled beneath poverty;
Swaddled up in homely rags
On a bed of straw and flags!
He whose hands the heavens displayed,
And the world's foundation laid,
From the world's almost exiled,
Of all ornaments despoiled.
Perfumes bathe Him not, new-born,
Persian mantles not adorn;
Nor do the rich roofs look bright
With the jasper's orient light.
Where, O royal Infant, be
Th' ensigns of Thy majesty;
Thy Sire's equalizing state;
And Thy sceptre that rules fate?
Where's Thy angel-guarded throne,
Whence Thy laws Thou didst make known,
Laws which heaven, earth, hell, obeyed?
These, ah! these aside He laid;
Would the emblem be--of pride
By humility outvied?
_Sir Edward Sherburne._
THE BURNING BABE.
As I in hoary winter's night stood shivering in the snow,
Surprised I was with sudden heat which made my heart to glow;
And lifting up a fearful eye to view what fire was near,
A pretty babe all burning bright did in the air appear,
Who, scorchéd with excessive heat, such floods of tears did shed,
As though his floods should quench his flames which with his tears
were fed.
Alas! quoth he, but newly born in fiery heats I fry,
Yet none approach to warm their hearts or feel my fire but I.
My faultless breast the furnace is, the fuel wounding thorns:
Love is the fire and sighs the smoke, the ashes shame and scorns:
The fuel justice layeth on, and mercy blows the coals;
The metal in this furnace wrought are men's defiléd souls;
For which, as now on fire I am, to work them to their good,
So will I melt into a bath to wash them in my blood.
With that he vanish'd out of sight and swiftly shrunk away.
And straight I calléd unto mind that it was Christmas Day.
_Robert Southwell._
CHRIST'S NATIVITY.
Awake, glad heart! get up and sing!
It is the birthday of thy King.
Awake! awake!
The sun doth shake
Light from his locks, and, all the way
Breathing perfumes, doth spice the day.
Awake! awake! hark how th' wood rings,
Winds whisper, and the busy springs
A concert make!
Awake! awake!
Man is their high-priest, and should rise
To offer up the sacrifice.
I would I were some bird or star
Fluttering in woods, or lifted far
Above this inn,
And road of sin!
Then either star or bird should be
Shining or singing still to Thee.
I would I had in my best part
Fit rooms for Thee! or that my heart
Were so clean as
Thy manger was!
But I am all filth, and obscene;
Yet, if Thou wilt, Thou canst make clean.
Sweet Jesu! will then. Let no more
This leper haunt and soil Thy door!
Cure him, ease him,
O release him!
And let once more, by mystic birth,
The Lord of life be born in earth.
_Henry Vaughan._
AN ODE ON THE BIRTH OF OUR SAVIOUR.
In numbers, and but these few,
I sing Thy birth, O Jesu!
Thou pretty baby, born here
With sup'rabundant scorn here:
Who, for Thy princely port here,
Hadst for Thy place
Of birth a base
Out-stable for Thy court here.
Instead of neat enclosures
Of interwoven osiers,
Instead of fragrant posies
Of daffodils and roses,
Thy cradle, kingly stranger,
As gospel tells,
Was nothing else
But here a homely manger.
But we with silks not crewels,
With sundry precious jewels,
And lily work will dress Thee;
And, as we dispossess Thee
Of clouts, we'll make a chamber,
Sweet babe, for Thee
Of ivory
And plaster'd round with amber.
The Jews they did disdain Thee,
But we will entertain Thee
With glories to await here
Upon Thy princely state here;
And, more for love than pity,
From year to year
We'll make Thee here
A free-born of our city.
_Robert Herrick._
WHO CAN FORGET?
Who can forget--never to be forgot--
The time, that all the world in slumber lies,
When, like the stars, the singing angels shot
To earth, and heaven awaked all his eyes
To see another sun at midnight rise
On earth? Was never sight of pareil fame
For God before, man like himself did frame,
But God himself now like a mortal man became.
A child He was, and had not learnt to speak,
That with His word the world before did make;
His mother's arms Him bore, He was so weak,
That with one hand the vaults of heaven could shake;
See how small room my infant Lord doth take,
Whom all the world is not enough to hold!
Who of His years or of His age hath told?
Never such age so young, never a child so old.
And yet but newly He was infanted,
And yet already He was sought to die;
Yet scarcely born, already banished;
Not able yet to go, and forced to fly:
But scarcely fled away, when by and by
The tyrant's sword with blood is all defiled,
And Rachel, for her sons, with fury wild,
Cries, "O thou cruel king, and O my sweetest Child!"
Egypt His nurse became, where Nilus springs,
Who, straight to entertain the rising sun,
The hasty harvest in his bosom brings;
But now for drought the fields were all undone,
And now with waters all is overrun:
So fast the Cynthian mountains pour'd their snow,
When once they felt the sun so near them glow,
That Nilus Egypt lost, and to a sea did grow.
The angels carolled loud their song of peace;
The cursed oracles were strucken dumb;
To see their Shepherd the poor shepherds press;
To see their King, the kingly sophies[S] come;
And them to guide unto his Master's home,
A star comes dancing up the orient,
That springs for joy over the strawy tent,
Where gold, to make their prince a crown, they all present.
_Giles Fletcher._
FOOTNOTE:
[S] Wise men.
THE CHILD JESUS.
A CORNISH CAROL.
Welcome that star in Judah's sky,
That voice o'er Bethlehem's palmy glen!
The lamp far sages hailed on high,
The tones that thrilled the shepherd men:
Glory to God in loftiest heaven!
Thus angels smote the echoing chord;
Glad tidings unto man forgiven,
Peace from the presence of the Lord.
The Shepherds sought that birth divine,
The Wise Men traced their guided way;
There, by strange light and mystic sign,
The God they came to worship lay.
A human Babe in beauty smiled,
Where lowing oxen round Him trod:
A maiden clasped her awful Child,
Pure offspring of the breath of God.
Those voices from on high are mute,
The star the Wise Men saw is dim;
But hope still guides the wanderer's foot,
And faith renews the angel hymn:
Glory to God in loftiest heaven!
Touch with glad hand the ancient chord;
Good tidings unto man forgiven,
Peace from the presence of the Lord.
_Robert Stephen Hawker._
LONG AGO.
In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.
Our God, heaven cannot hold Him,
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty,
Jesus Christ.