Christmas in Legend and Story - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
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!
NEIGHBORS OF THE CHRIST NIGHT
NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH
Deep in the shelter of the cave, The a.s.s 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 wors.h.i.+p, 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 c.o.c.ks 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.
CHRISTMAS CAROL
FROM THE NEAPOLITAN
When Christ was born in Bethlehem, 'T was night, but seemed the noon of day; The stars, whose light Was pure and bright, Shone with unwavering ray; But one, one glorious star Guided the Eastern Magi from afar.
Then peace was spread throughout the land; The lion fed beside the tender lamb; And with the kid, To pasture led, The spotted leopard fed; In peace, the calf and bear, The wolf and lamb reposed together there.
As shepherds watched their flocks by night, An angel, brighter than the sun's own light, Appeared in air, And gently said, Fear not,--be not afraid, For lo! beneath your eyes, Earth has become a smiling paradise.
A CHRISTMAS HYMN
RICHARD WATSON GILDER
Tell me what is this innumerable throng Singing in the heavens a loud angelic song?
These are they who come with swift and s.h.i.+ning feet From round about the throne of G.o.d the Lord of Light to greet.
Oh, who are these that hasten beneath the starry sky, As if with joyful tidings that through the world shall fly?
The faithful shepherds these, who greatly were afeared When, as they watched their flocks by night, 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 east who myrrh and treasure bring To lay them at the feet of him their Lord and Christ and King.
What babe new-born is this that in a manger cries?
Near on her lowly bed his happy mother lies.
Oh, see the air is shaken with white and heavenly wings-- This is the Lord of all the earth, this is the King of kings.
THE SONG OF A SHEPHERD--BOY AT BETHLEHEM
JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY
Sleep, Thou little Child of Mary: Rest Thee now.
Though these hands be rough from shearing And the plough,
Yet they shall not ever fail Thee, When the waiting nations hail Thee, Bringing palms unto their King.
Now--I sing.
Sleep, Thou little Child of Mary, Hope divine.
If Thou wilt but smile upon me, I will twine Blossoms for Thy garlanding.
Thou'rt so little to be King, G.o.d's Desire!
Not a brier Shall be left to grieve Thy brow; Rest Thee now.
Sleep, Thou little Child of Mary.
Some fair day Wilt Thou, as Thou wert a brother, Come away Over hills and over hollow?
All the lambs will up and follow, Follow but for love of Thee.
Lov'st Thou me?
Sleep, Thou little Child of Mary; Rest Thee now.
I that watch am come from sheep-stead And from plough.
Thou wilt have disdain of me When Thou'rt lifted, royally, Very high for all to see: Smilest Thou?
THE FIRST CHRISTMAS ROSES
ADAPTED FROM AN OLD LEGEND
The sun had dropped below the western hills of Judea, and the stillness of night had covered the earth. The heavens were illumined only by numberless stars, which shone the brighter for the darkness of the sky. No sound was heard but the occasional howl of a jackal or the bleat of a lamb in the sheepfold. Inside a tent on the hillside slept the shepherd, Berachah, and his daughter, Madelon. The little girl lay restless,--sleeping, waking, dreaming, until at last she roused herself and looked about her.
"Father," she whispered, "oh, my father, awake. I fear for the sheep."
The shepherd turned himself and reached for his staff. "What nearest thou, daughter! The dogs are asleep. Hast thou been burdened by an evil dream?"
"Nay, but father," she answered, "seest thou not the light? Hearest thou not the voice?"
Berachah gathered his mantle about him, rose, looked over the hills toward Bethlehem, and listened. The olive trees on yonder slope were casting their shadows in a marvellous light, unlike daybreak or sunset, or even the light of the moon. By the camp-fire below on the hillside the shepherds on watch were rousing themselves. Berachah waited and wondered, while Madelon clung to his side. Suddenly a sound rang out in the stillness. Madelon pressed still closer.
"It is the voice of an angel, my daughter. What it means I know not.
Neither understand I this light." Berachah fell on his knees and prayed.
"Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger."