Volume I Part 48 (2/2)

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, singing 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!”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow [1807-1882]

A CHRISTMAS CAROL

The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap, His hair was like a light.

(O weary, weary were the world, But here is all aright.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary's breast, His hair was like a star.

(O stern and cunning are the kings, But here the true hearts are.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary's heart, His hair was like a fire.

(O weary, weary is the world, But here the world's desire.)

The Christ-child stood at Mary's knee, His hair was like a crown, And all the flowers looked up at Him, And all the stars looked down.

Gilbert Keith Chesterton [1874-1936]

THE HOUSE OF CHRISTMAS

There fared a mother driven forth Out of an inn to roam; In the place where she was homeless All men are at home.

The crazy stable close at hand, With shaking timber and s.h.i.+fting sand, Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand Than the square stones of Rome.

For men are homesick in their homes, And strangers under the sun, And they lay their heads in a foreign land Whenever the day is done.

Here we have battle and blazing eyes, And chance and honor and high surprise, But our homes are under miraculous skies Where the yule tale was begun.

A Child in a foul stable, Where the beasts feed and foam, Only where He was homeless Are you and I at home; We have hands that fas.h.i.+on and heads that know, But our hearts we lost--how long ago!

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