_Basil. Sandy. Brian. Menzies._
_Sandy._
In holly hedges starving birds
Silently mourn the setting year.
_Basil._
Upright like silver-plated swords
The flags stand in the frozen mere.
_Brian._
The mistletoe we still adore
Upon the twisted hawthorn grows.
_Menzies._
In antique gardens hellebore
Puts forth its blushing Christmas rose.
_Sandy._
Shrivelled and purple, cheek by jowl,
The hips and haws hang drearily.
_Basil._
Rolled in a ball the sulky owl
Creeps far into his hollow tree.
_Brian._
In abbeys and cathedrals dim
The birth of Christ is acted o’er;
The kings of Cologne worship Him,
Balthazar, Jasper, Melchior.
_Menzies._
And while our midnight talk is made
Of this and that and now and then,
The old earth-stopper with his spade
And lantern seeks the fox’s den.
_Sandy._
Oh, for a northern blast to blow
These depths of air that cream and curdle!
_Basil._
Now are the halcyon days, you know;
Old Time has leapt another hurdle:
And pauses as he only may
Who knows he never can be caught.
_Brian._
The winter solstice, shortest day
And longest night, was past, I thought.
_Basil._
Oh yes! but fore-and-aft a week
Silent the winds must ever be,
Because the happy halcyons seek
Their nests upon the sea.
_Brian._
The Christmas-time! the lovely things
That last of it! Sweet thoughts and deeds!
_Sandy._
How strong and green old Legend clings
Like ivy round the ruined creeds!
_Menzies._
A fearless, ruthless, wanton band,
Deep in our hearts we guard from scathe,
Of last year’s log a smouldering brand
To light at Yule the fire of faith.
_Brian._
The shepherds in the field at night
Beheld an angel glory-clad,
And shrank away with sore affright.
‘Be not afraid,’ the angel bade.
‘I bring good news to king and clown,
To you here crouching on the sward;
For there is born in David’s town
A Saviour which is Christ the Lord.
‘Behold the Babe is swathed, and laid
Within a manger.’ Straight there stood
Beside the angel all arrayed
A heavenly multitude.
‘Glory to God,’ they sang; ‘and peace,
Good pleasure among men.’
_Sandy._
The wondrous message of release!
_Menzies._
Glory to God again!
_Brian._
Again! God help us to be good!
_Basil._
Hush! hark! without; the waits, the waits!
With brass, and strings, and mellow wood.
_Menzies._
A simple tune can ope heaven’s gates!
_Sandy._
Slowly they play, poor careful souls,
With wistful thoughts of Christmas cheer,
Unwitting how their music rolls
Away the burden of the year.
_Basil._
And with the charm, the homely rune,
Our thoughts like childhood’s thoughts are given,
When all our pulses beat in tune
With all the stars of heaven.
_Menzies._
Oh cease! Oh cease!
_Sandy._
Ay; cease, and bring
The wassail bowl, the cup of grace.
_Brian._
Pour wine, and heat it till it sing,
With cloves, and cardamums and mace.
* * * * *
_Brian._
Hush! hark! the waits far up the street!
_Basil._
A distant, ghostly charm unfolds,
Of magic music wild and sweet,
Anomes and clarigolds.
JOHN DAVIDSON