The Most Beautiful Christmas Prose And Verse E-Book

Various Authors

• Herausgeber: Jazzybee Verlag
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Seitenzahl: 277

Beschreibung

Christmas is our most important holiday, and its literature is correspondingly rich. Yet until now no adequate bundle of Christmas treasures in poetry and prose has found its way into the library of Santa Claus. While this book brings to children of all ages, in school and at home, the best lyrics, carols, essays, plays and stories of Christmas, its scope is yet wider. For the Introduction gives a rapid view of the holiday's origin and development, its relation to cognate pagan festivals, the customs and symbols of its observance in different lands, and the significance and spirit of the day. This Introduction endeavors to be as suggestive as possible to parents and teachers who are personally conducted and introduced to the host of writers learned and quaint, human and pedantic, humorous and brilliant and profound, who have dealt technically with this fascinating subject.

Leseprobe

The Most Beautiful Christmas Prose And Verse

Edited By Juergen Beck

Contents:

The Most Beautiful Christmas Prose And Verse

I – Origin

Is There A Santa Claus?

O Little Town Of Bethlehem

The Glad Evangel

The Shepherds

A Christmas Carol

A Christmas Hymn

Brightest And Best Of The Sons Of The Morning

God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen

The Christmas Silence

A Christmas Lullaby

Hymn For The Nativity

Masters In This Hall

The Adoration Of The Wise Men

The Shepherds In Judea

Christmas Carol

Neighbors Of The Christ Night

Cradle Hymn

An Ode On The Birth Of Our Saviour

Christmas Song

A Hymn On The Nativity Of My Saviour

The Shepherd's Song

A Christmas Carol

A Christmas Hymn

Christmas Day

Christmas

Christmas

"While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night"

Colonial Christmases

The Angels

Hymn For Christmas

New Prince, New Pomp

The Three Kings

Hymn On The Nativity

II – Celebration

Christmas Eve At Mr. Wardle's

A Christmas Carol

A Visit From St. Nicholas

A Christmas Piece

Wassailer's Song

A Carol

Christmas Eve

Christmas In The Olden Time

Sly Santa Claus

The Waits

The Knighting Of The Sirloin Of Beef By Charles The Second

The Christmas Goose At The Cratchits'

God Bless Us Every One

Bells Across The Snows

Christmas Bells

Minstrels And Maids

Inexhaustibility Of The Subject Of Christmas

Song Of The Holly

Under The Holly-Bough

Ceremonies For Christmas

Santa Claus

The Ceremonies For Christmas Day

December

The Festival Of St. Nicholas

The Christmas Holly

To The Fir-Tree

The Mahogany-Tree

Christmas

Church Decking At Christmas

So, Now Is Come Our Joyfulst Feast

Fairy Faces

Merry Christmas

A Merry Christmas To You

Christmas Bells

The Birth Of Christ

The Christmas Carol

Christmas At Fezziwig's Warehouse

Christmas Bells

III - Significance And Spirit

A Christmas Carmen

The Spirit Of Christmas

On Good Wishes At Christmas

A Christmas Song

Sery

A Christmas Song

Christmas

Christmas Carol

The End Of The Play

Christ's Nativity

Christmas Dreams

Keeping Christmas

Mark Well My Heavy Doleful Tale

A Christmas Carol

The Glorious Song Of Old

A Christmas Carol For Children

On Santa Claus

A Christmas Carol

An Offertory

Christmas Song

A Christmas Carol

A Simple Bill Of Fare For A Christmas Dinner

A Ballade Of Old Loves

Ballade Of Christmas Ghosts

Hang Up The Baby's Stocking

The Newest Thing In Christmas Carols

A Christmas Letter From Australia

Christmas

IV - Stories

The Fir Tree

Little Roger's Night In The Church

Mr. Bluffs Experiences Of Holidays

Santa Claus At Simpson's Bar

V - Old Carols And Exercises

God Rest You, Merry Gentlemen

Old Christmas Returned

Christmas Carol

"In Excelsis Gloria"

The Boar's Head Carol

Christmas Carol

Additional Pieces

A Christmas Insurrection

The Night After Christmas

When The Stars Of Morning Sang

A Prayer At Bethlehem

The Christmas Fires

Carol

The Mother

Jazzybee Verlag Jürgen Beck

86450 Altenmünster, Loschberg 9

Deutschland

ISBN: 9783849647339

www.jazzybee-verlag.de

www.facebook.com/jazzybeeverlag

[email protected]

The Most Beautiful Christmas Prose And Verse

I – Origin

Is There A Santa Claus?

The following, reprinted from the editorial page of the New York Sun, was written by the late Mr. Frank P. Church:

We take pleasure in answering at once and thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:

Dear Editor: I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says "If you see it in The Sun it's so." Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus? Virginia O'Hanlon.

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the scepticism of a sceptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

O Little Town Of Bethlehem

PHILLIPS BROOKS

O little town of Bethlehem, How still we see thee lie! Above thy deep and dreamless sleep The silent stars go by; Yet in thy dark streets shineth The everlasting Light; The hopes and fears of all the years Are met in thee to-night. For Christ is born of Mary, And, gathered all above, While mortals sleep, the angels keep Their watch of wondering love. O morning stars, together Proclaim the holy birth! And praises sing to God the King, And peace to men on earth. How silently, how silently, The wondrous gift is given! So God imparts to human hearts The blessings of His heaven. No ear may hear His coming, But in this world of sin, Where meek souls will receive Him still, The dear Christ enters in. O holy Child of Bethlehem! Descend to us, we pray; Cast out our sin, and enter in, Be born in us to-day. We hear the Christmas angels The great glad tidings tell; Oh, come to us, abide with us, Our Lord Emmanuel!

The Glad Evangel

KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN

When the Child of Nazareth was born, the sun, according to the Bosnian legend, "leaped in the heavens, and the stars around it danced. A peace came over mountain and forest. Even the rotten stump stood straight and healthy on the green hill-side. The grass was beflowered with open blossoms, incense sweet as myrrh pervaded upland and forest, birds sang on the mountain top, and all gave thanks to the great God."

It is naught but an old folk-tale, but it has truth hidden at its heart, for a strange, subtle force, a spirit of genial good-will, a new-born kindness, seem to animate child and man alike when the world pays its tribute to the "heaven-sent youngling," as the poet Drummond calls the infant Christ.

When the Three Wise Men rode from the East into the West on that "first, best Christmas night," they bore on their saddle-bows three caskets filled with gold and frankincense and myrrh, to be laid at the feet of the manger-cradled babe of Bethlehem. Beginning with this old, old journey, the spirit of giving crept into the world's heart. As the Magi came bearing gifts, so do we also; gifts that relieve want, gifts that are sweet and fragrant with friendship, gifts that breathe love, gifts that mean service, gifts inspired still by the star that shone over the City of David nearly two thousand years ago.

Then hang the green coronet of the Christmas-tree with glittering baubles and jewels of flame; heap offerings on its emerald branches; bring the Yule log to the firing; deck the house with holly and mistletoe,

"And all the bells on earth shall ring On Christmas day in the morning."

The Shepherds

WILLIAM DRUMMOND, OF HAWTHORNDEN

O than the fairest day, thrice fairer night! Night to blest days in which a sun doth rise Of which that golden eye which clears the skies Is but a sparkling ray, a shadow-light! And blessed ye, in silly pastor's sight, Mild creatures, in whose warm crib now lies That heaven-sent youngling, holy-maid-born wight, Midst, end, beginning of our prophecies! Blest cottage that hath flowers in winter spread, Though withered—blessed grass that hath the grace To deck and be a carpet to that place! Thus sang, unto the sounds of oaten reed, Before the Babe, the shepherds bowed on knees; And springs ran nectar, honey dropped from trees.

A Christmas Carol

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL

"What means this glory round our feet," The Magi mused, "more bright than morn?" And voices chanted clear and sweet, "To-day the Prince of Peace is born!" "What means that star," the Shepherds said, "That brightens through the rocky glen?" And angels, answering overhead, Sang, "Peace on earth, good-will to men!" 'Tis eighteen hundred years and more Since those sweet oracles were dumb; We wait for Him, like them of yore; Alas, He seems so slow to come! But it was said, in words of gold, No time or sorrow e'er shall dim, That little children might be bold In perfect trust to come to Him. All round about our feet shall shine A light like that the wise men saw, If we our loving wills incline To that sweet Life which is the Law. So shall we learn to understand The simple faith of shepherds then, And, clasping kindly hand in hand, Sing, "Peace on earth, good-will to men!" But they who do their souls no wrong, But keep at eve the faith of morn, Shall daily hear the angel-song, "To-day the Prince of Peace is born!"

A Christmas Hymn

ALFRED DOMETT

It was the calm and silent night! Seven hundred years and fifty-three Had Rome been growing up to might, And now was Queen of land and sea. No sound was heard of clashing wars; Peace brooded o'er the hush'd domain; Apollo, Pallas, Jove and Mars, Held undisturb'd their ancient reign, In the solemn midnight Centuries ago. 'T was in the calm and silent night! The senator of haughty Rome Impatient urged his chariot's flight, From lordly revel rolling home. Triumphal arches gleaming swell His breast with thoughts of boundless sway; What reck'd the Roman what befell A paltry province far away, In the solemn midnight Centuries ago! Within that province far away Went plodding home a weary boor: A streak of light before him lay, Fall'n through a half-shut stable door Across his path. He pass'd—for nought Told what was going on within; How keen the stars! his only thought; The air how calm and cold and thin, In the solemn midnight Centuries ago! O strange indifference!—low and high Drows'd over common joys and cares: The earth was still—but knew not why; The world was listening—unawares. How calm a moment may precede One that shall thrill the world for ever! To that still moment none would heed, Man's doom was link'd, no more to sever, In the solemn midnight Centuries ago. It is the calm and solemn night A thousand bells ring out, and throw Their joyous peals abroad, and smite The darkness, charm'd and holy now. The night that erst no name had worn, To it a happy name is given; For in that stable lay new-born The peaceful Prince of Earth and Heaven, In the solemn midnight Centuries ago.

Brightest And Best Of The Sons Of The Morning

REGINALD HEBER

Brightest and best of the Sons of the morning! Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid! Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our Infant Redeemer is laid! Cold on His cradle the dewdrops are shining, Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall; Angels adore Him in slumber reclining, Maker and Monarch and Saviour of all! Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion, Odors of Edom and offerings divine? Gems of the mountain and pearls of the ocean, Myrrh from the forest, or gold from the mine? Vainly we offer each ample oblation; Vainly with gifts would His favor secure: Richer by far is the heart's adoration; Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor. Brightest and best of the Sons of the morning! Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid! Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our Infant Redeemer is laid!

God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen

DINAH MARIA MULOCK

God rest ye, merry gentlemen; let nothing you dismay, For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas-day. The dawn rose red o'er Bethlehem, the stars shone through the gray, When Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas-day. God rest ye, little children; let nothing you affright, For Jesus Christ, your Saviour, was born this happy night; Along the hills of Galilee the white flocks sleeping lay, When Christ, the child of Nazareth, was born on Christmas-day. God rest ye, all good Christians; upon this blessed morn The Lord of all good Christians was of a woman born: Now all your sorrows He doth heal, your sins He takes away; For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas-day.

The Christmas Silence

MARGARET DELAND

Hushed are the pigeons cooing low On dusty rafters of the loft; And mild-eyed oxen, breathing soft, Sleep on the fragrant hay below. Dim shadows in the corner hide; The glimmering lantern's rays are shed Where one young lamb just lifts his head, Then huddles 'gainst his mother's side. Strange silence tingles in the air; Through the half-open door a bar Of light from one low-hanging star Touches a baby's radiant hair. No sound: the mother, kneeling, lays Her cheek against the little face. Oh human love! Oh heavenly grace! 'Tis yet in silence that she prays! Ages of silence end to-night; Then to the long-expectant earth Glad angels come to greet His birth In burst of music, love, and light!

A Christmas Lullaby

JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS

Sleep, baby, sleep! The Mother sings: Heaven's angels kneel and fold their wings. Sleep, baby, sleep! With swathes of scented hay Thy bed By Mary's hand at eve was spread. Sleep, baby, sleep! At midnight came the shepherds, they Whom seraphs wakened by the way. Sleep, baby, sleep! And three kings from the East afar, Ere dawn came, guided by the star. Sleep, baby, sleep! They brought Thee gifts of gold and gems, Pure orient pearls, rich diadems. Sleep, baby, sleep! Thou who liest slumbering there, Art King of Kings, earth, ocean, air. Sleep, baby, sleep! Sleep, baby, sleep! The shepherds sing: Through heaven, through earth, hosannas ring.Sleep, baby, sleep!

Hymn For The Nativity

EDWARD THRING

Happy night and happy silence downward softly stealing, Softly stealing over land and sea, Stars from golden censors swing a silent eager feeling Down on Judah, down on Galilee; And all the wistful air, and earth, and sky, Listened, listened for the gladness of a cry. Holy night, a sudden flash of light its way is winging: Angels, angels, all above, around; Hark, the angel voices, hark, the angel voices singing; And the sheep are lying on the ground. Lo, all the wistful air, and earth, and sky, Listen, listen to the gladness of the cry. Happy night at Bethlehem; soft little hands are feeling, Feeling in the manger with the kine: Little hands, and eyelids closed in sleep, while angels kneeling, Mary mother, hymn the Babe Divine. Lo, all the wistful air, and earth, and sky, Listen, listen to the gladness of the cry. Wide, as if the light were music, flashes adoration: "Glory be to God, nor ever cease," All the silence thrills, and speeds the message of salvation: "Peace on earth, good-will to men of peace." Lo, all the wistful air, and earth, and sky, Listen, listen to the gladness of the cry. Holy night, thy solemn silence evermore enfoldeth Angels songs and peace from God on high: Holy night, thy watcher still with faithful eye beholdeth Wings that wave, and angel glory nigh, Lo, hushed is strife in air, and earth, and sky, Still thy watchers hear the gladness of the cry. Praise Him, ye who watch the night, the silent night of ages: Praise Him, shepherds, praise the Holy Child; Praise Him, ye who hear the light, O praise Him, all ye sages; Praise Him, children, praise Him meek and mild. Lo, peace on Earth, glory to God on high, Listen, listen to the gladness of the cry.

Masters In This Hall

ANONYMOUS

"To Bethlem did they go, the shepherds three; To Bethlem 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 wind did blow. Nowell, &c. Shepherds many an one Sat among the sheep; No man spake more word Than they had been asleep. Nowell, &c. Quoth I 'Fellows mine, Why this guise sit ye? Making but dull cheer, Shepherds though ye be? Nowell, &c. 'Shepherds should of right Leap and dance and sing; Thus to see ye sit Is a right strange thing.' Nowell, &c. Quoth these fellows then 'To Bethlem town we go, To see a Mighty Lord Lie in manger low.' Nowell, &c. 'How name ye this Lord, Shepherds?' then said I. 'Very God' they said, 'Come from Heaven high.' Nowell, &c. Then to Bethlem town We went two and two, And in a sorry place Heard the oxen low. Nowell, &c. Therein did we see A sweet and goodly May, And a fair old man; Upon the straw she lay. Nowell, &c. And a little CHILD On her arm had she; 'Wot ye who this is?' Said the hinds to me. Nowell, &c. Ox and ass him know, Kneeling on their knee: Wondrous joy had I This little BABE to see. Nowell, &c. This is CHRIST the Lord, Masters, be ye glad! Christmas is come in, And no folk should be sad.Nowell, &c.

The Adoration Of The Wise Men

CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER

Saw you never in the twilight, When the sun had left the skies, Up in heaven the clear stars shining, Through the gloom like silver eyes? So of old the wise men watching, Saw a little stranger star, And they knew the King was given, And they follow'd it from far. Heard you never of the story, How they cross'd the desert wild, Journey'd on by plain and mountain, Till they found the Holy Child? How they open'd all their treasure, Kneeling to that Infant King, Gave the gold and fragrant incense, Gave the myrrh in offering? Know ye not that lowly Baby Was the bright and morning star, He who came to light the Gentiles, And the darken'd isles afar? And we too may seek his cradle, There our heart's best treasures bring, Love, and Faith, and true devotion, For our Saviour, God, and King.

The Shepherds In Judea

MARY AUSTIN

Oh, the Shepherds in Judea, They are pacing to and fro, For the air grows chill at twilight And the weanling lambs are slow! Leave, O lambs, the dripping sedges, quit the bramble and the brier, Leave the fields of barley stubble, for we light the watching fire; Twinkling fires across the twilight, and a bitter watch to keep, Lest the prowlers come a-thieving where the flocks unguarded sleep. Oh, the Shepherds in Judea, They are singing soft and low— Song the blessed angels taught them All the centuries ago! There was never roof to hide them, there were never walls to bind; Stark they lie beneath the star-beams, whom the blessed angels find, With the huddled flocks upstarting, wondering if they hear aright, While the Kings come riding, riding, solemn shadows in the night. Oh, the Shepherds in Judea, They are thinking, as they go, Of the light that broke their watching On the hillside in the snow!— Scattered snow along the hillside, white as springtime fleeces are, With the whiter wings above them and the glory-streaming star— Guiding-star across the housetops; never fear the Shepherds felt Till they found the Babe in manger where the kindly cattle knelt. Oh, the Shepherds in Judea!— Do you think the Shepherds know How the whole round earth is brightened In the ruddy Christmas glow? How the sighs are lost in laughter, and the laughter brings the tears, As the thoughts of men go seeking back across the darkling years Till they find the wayside stable that the star-led Wise Men found, With the Shepherds, mute, adoring, and the glory shining round!

Christmas Carol

JAMES S. PARK

So crowded was the little town On the first Christmas day, Tired Mary Mother laid her down To rest upon the hay. (Ah, would my door might have been thrown Wide open on her way!) But when the Holy Babe was born In the deep hush of night, It seemed as if a Sabbath morn Had come with sacred light. Child Jesus made the place forlorn With his own beauty bright. The manger rough was all his rest; The cattle, having fed, Stood silent by, or closer pressed, And gravely wonderèd. (Ah, Lord, if only that my breast Had cradled Thee instead!)

Neighbors Of The Christ Night

NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH

Deep in the shelter of the cave, The ass with drooping head Stood weary in the shadow, where His master's hand had led. About the manger oxen lay, Bending a wide-eyed gaze Upon the little new-born Babe, Half worship, half amaze. High in the roof the doves were set, And cooed there, soft and mild, Yet not so sweet as, in the hay, The Mother to her Child. The gentle cows breathed fragrant breath To keep Babe Jesus warm, While loud and clear, o'er hill and dale, The cocks crowed, "Christ is born!" Out in the fields, beneath the stars, The young lambs sleeping lay, And dreamed that in the manger slept Another white as they. - - - - - These were Thy neighbors, Christmas Child; To Thee their love was given, For in Thy baby face there shone The wonder-light of Heaven.

Cradle Hymn

ISAAC WATTS

Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber; Holy angels guard thy bed; Heavenly blessings without number Gently falling on thy head. Sleep, my babe, thy food and raiment, House and home, thy friends provide; All without thy care, or payment, All thy wants are well supplied. How much better thou'rt attended Than the Son of God could be, When from heaven He descended, And became a child like thee! Soft and easy is thy cradle; Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay, When His birthplace was a stable, And His softest bed was hay. See the kindly shepherds round him, Telling wonders from the sky! When they sought Him, there they found Him, With his Virgin-Mother by. See the lovely babe a-dressing; Lovely infant, how He smiled! When He wept, the mother's blessing Soothed and hushed the holy child. Lo, He slumbers in His manger, Where the honest oxen fed; —Peace, my darling! here's no danger! Here's no ox a-near thy bed! Mayst thou live to know and fear Him, Trust and love Him all thy days; Then go dwell forever near Him, See His face, and sing His praise! I could give thee thousand kisses, Hoping what I most desire; Not a mother's fondest wishes Can to greater joys aspire.

An Ode On The Birth Of Our Saviour

ROBERT HERRICK

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.

Christmas Song

EDMUND HAMILTON SEARS

Calm on the listening ear of night Come heaven's melodious strains, Where wild Judea stretches far Her silver-mantled plains; Celestial choirs from courts above Shed sacred glories there; And angels with their sparkling lyres Make music on the air. The answering hills of Palestine Send back the glad reply, And greet from all their holy heights The day-spring from on high: O'er the blue depths of Galilee There comes a holier calm, And Sharon waves, in solemn praise, Her silent groves of palm. "Glory to God!" The lofty strain The realm of ether fills: How sweeps the song of solemn joy O'er Judah's sacred hills! "Glory to God!" The sounding skies Loud with their anthems ring; "Peace on the earth; good-will to men, From heaven's eternal King!" Light on thy hills, Jerusalem! The Saviour now is born: More bright on Bethlehem's joyous plains Breaks the first Christmas morn; And brighter on Moriah's brow, Crowned with her temple-spires, Which first proclaim the new-born light, Clothed with its Orient fires. This day shall Christian lips be mute, And Christian hearts be cold? Oh, catch the anthem that from heaven O'er Judah's mountains rolled! When nightly burst from seraph-harps The high and solemn lay,— "Glory to God! on earth be peace; Salvation comes to-day!"

A Hymn On The Nativity Of My Saviour

BEN JONSON

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?

The Shepherd's Song

EDMUND BOLTON

Sweet music, sweeter far Than any song is sweet: Sweet music, heavenly rare, Mine ears, O peers, doth greet. You gentle flocks, whose fleeces pearled with dew, Resemble heaven, whom golden drops make bright, Listen, O listen, now, O not to you Our pipes make sport to shorten weary night: But voices most divine Make blissful harmony: Voices that seem to shine, For what else clears the sky? Tunes can we hear, but not the singers see, The tunes divine, and so the singers be. Lo, how the firmament Within an azure fold The flock of stars hath pent, That we might them behold, Yet from their beams proceedeth not this light, Nor can their crystals such reflection give. What then doth make the element so bright? The heavens are come down upon earth to live But hearken to the song, Glory to glory's King, And peace all men among, These quiristers do sing. Angels they are, as also (shepherds) He Whom in our fear we do admire to see. Let not amazement blind Your souls, said he, annoy: To you and all mankind My message bringeth joy. For lo! the world's great Shepherd now is born, A blessed Babe, an Infant full of power: After long night uprisen is the morn, Renowning Bethlem in the Saviour. Sprung is the perfect day, By prophets seen afar: Sprung is the mirthful May, Which winter cannot mar. In David's city doth this Sun appear Clouded in flesh, yet, shepherds, sit we here!

A Christmas Carol

AUBREY DE VERE

They leave the land of gems and gold, The shining portals of the East; For Him, the woman's Seed foretold, They leave the revel and the feast. To earth their sceptres they have cast, And crowns by kings ancestral worn; They track the lonely Syrian waste; They kneel before the Babe new born.