by A. A. Milne
* * *
An' your Pa, too, wuz chums, all through,
With Santy!—Wisht Pa'd be here, too!"
Nen Uncle sigh at Ma, an' she
Pat him again, an' say to me
An' Etty,—"You take warning fair!—
Don't talk too much, like Uncle there,
Ner don't fergit, like him, my dears,
That 'little pitchers has big ears!'"
But Uncle say to her, "Clear out!—
Yer brother knows what he's about.—
You git your Chris'mus-cookin' done
Er these pore childern won't have none! »
* * *
Nen Trip wake up an' raise, an' nen
Turn roun' an' nen lay down again.
An' one time Uncle Sidney say,—
"When dogs is sleepin' thataway,
Like Trip, an' whimpers, it's a sign
He'll ketch eight rabbits—mayby nine—
Afore his fleas'll wake him—nen
He'll bite hisse'f to sleep again
An try to dream he's go' ketch ten."
* * *
An' when Ma's gone again back in
The kitchen, Uncle scratch his chin
An' say, "When Santy Claus an' Pa
An' me wuz little boys—an' Ma,
When she's 'bout big as Etty there;—
W'y,—'When we're growed—no matter where,'
Santy he cross' his heart an' say,—
'I'll come to see you, all, some day
* * *
When you' got childerns—all but me
An' pore old Sid!'" Nen Uncle he
Ist kindo' shade his eyes an' pour'
'Bout forty-'leven bushels more
O' popcorn out the skillut there
In Ma's new basket on the chair.
An' nen he telled us—an' talk' low,
"So Ma can't hear," he say:—"You know
Yer Pa know', when he drived away,
Tomorry's go' be Chris'mus-Day;—
Well, nen tonight," he whisper, "see?—
It's go' be Chris'mus-Eve," says-ee,
"An', like yer Pa hint, when he went,
Old Santy Claus (now hush!) he's sent
Yer Pa a postul-card, an' write
He's shorely go' be here tonight....
That's why yer Pa's so bored to be
Away tonight, when Santy he
Is go' be here, sleighbells an' all,
To make you kids a Chris'mus-call!"
* * *
An' we're so glad to know fer shore
He's comin', I roll on the floor—
An' here come Trip a-waller'n' roun'
An' purt'-nigh knock the clo'eshorse down!—
An' Etty grab Lee-Bob an' prance
All roun' the room like it's a dance—
Till Ma she come an' march us nen
To dinner, where we're still again,
But tickled so we ist can't eat
But pie, an' ist the hot mincemeat
With raisins in.—But Uncle et,
An' Ma. An' there they set an' set
Till purt'-nigh supper-time; nen we
Tell him he's got to fix the Tree
'Fore Santy gits here, like he said.
* * *
We go nen to the old woodshed—
All bundled up, through the deep snow—
"An' snowin' yet, jee-rooshy-O!"
Uncle he said, an' he'p us wade
Back where's the Chris'mus-Tree he's made
Out of a little jackoak-top
He git down at the sawmill-shop—
An' Trip 'ud run ahead, you know,
An' 'tend-like he 'uz eatin' snow—
When we all waddle back with it;
An' Uncle set it up—an' git
It wite in front the fireplace—'cause
He says "'Tain't so 'at Santy Claus
Comes down all chimblies,—least, tonight
He's comin' in this house all right—
By the front-door, as ort to be!—
We'll all be hid where we can see!"
* * *
Nen he look up, an' he see Ma
An' say, "It's ist too bad their Pa
Can't be here, so's to see the fun
The childern will have, ever' one!"
Part 2
Well, we!—We hardly couldn't wait Till it wuz dusk, an' dark an' late Enough to light the lamp!—An' Lee- Bob light a candle on the Tree— "Ist one—'cause I'm 'The Lighter'!"—Nen He clumb on Uncle's knee again An' hug us bofe;—an' Etty git Her little chist an' set on it Wite clos't, while Uncle telled some more 'Bout Santy Claus, an' clo'es he wore
* * *
"All maked o' furs, an' trimmed as white As cotton is, er snow at night!" An' nen, all sudden-like, he say,— "Hush! Listen there! Hain't that a sleigh An' sleighbells jinglin'?" Trip go "whooh!" Like he hear bells an' smell 'em, too. Nen we all listen.... An'-sir, shore Enough, we hear bells—more an' more A-jinglin' clos'ter—clos'ter still Down the old crook-road roun' the hill.
* * *
An' Uncle he jumps up, an' all The chairs he jerks back by the wall An' th'ows a' overcoat an' pair O' winder-curtains over there An' says, "Hide quick, er you're too late!— Them bells is stoppin' at the gate!— Git back o' them-'air chairs an' hide, 'Cause I hear Santy's voice outside!"
* * *
Bang! bang! bang! we heerd the door— Nen it flewed open, an' the floor Blowed full o' snow—that's first we saw, Till little Lee-Bob shriek' at Ma
* * *
"There's Santy Claus!—I know him by His big white mufftash!"—an' ist cry An' laugh an' squeal an' dance an' yell— Till, when he quiet down a spell,
* * *
Old Santy bow an' th'ow a kiss To him—an' one to me an' Sis— An' nen go clos't to Ma an' stoop An' kiss her—An' nen give a whoop That fainted her!—'Cause when he bent An' kiss her, he ist backed an' went Wite 'ginst the Chris'mus-Tree ist where The candle's at Lee-Bob lit there!— An' set his white-fur belt afire— An' blaze streaked roun' his waist an' higher Wite up his old white beard an' th'oat!—
* * *
Nen Uncle grabs th' old overcoat An' flops it over Santy's head, An' swing the door wide back an' said, "Come out, old man!—an' quick about It!—I've ist got to put you out!" An' out he sprawled him in the snow— "Now roll!" he says—"Hi-roll-ee-O!"— An' Santy, sputter'n' "Ouch! Gee-whiz!" Ist roll an' roll fer all they is! An' Trip he's out there, too,—I know, 'Cause I could hear him yappin' so— An' I heerd Santy, wunst er twic't, Say, as he's rollin', "Drat the fice't!" Nen Uncle come back in, an' shake Ma up, an' say, "Fer mercy-sake!— He hain't hurt none!" An' nen he said,— "You youngsters h'ist up-stairs to bed!— Here! kiss yer Ma 'Good-night,' an' me,— We'll he'p old Santy fix the Tree— An' all yer whistles, horns an' drums I'll he'p you toot when morning comes!"
* * *
It's long while 'fore we go to sleep,— 'Cause down-stairs, all-time somepin' keep A-kindo' scufflin' roun' the floors— An' openin' doors, an' shettin' doors— An' could hear Trip a-whinin', too, Like he don't know ist what to do—
* * *
An' tongs a-clankin' down k'thump!— Nen some one squonkin' the old pump— An' Wooh! how cold it soun' out there! I could ist see the pump-spout where t's got ice chin-whiskers all wet An' drippy—An' I see it yet!
* * *
An' nen, seem-like, I hear some mens A-talkin' out there by the fence, An' one says, "Oh, 'bout twelve o'clock!" "Nen," 'nother'n says, "Here's to you, Doc!— God bless us ever' one!" An' nen I heerd the old pump squonk again. An' nen I say my prayer all through Like Uncle Sidney learn' me to,— "O Father mine, e'en as Thine own, This child looks up to Thee alone: Asleep or waking, give him still His Elder Brother's wish and will." An' that's the last I know.... Till Ma She's callin' us—an' so is Pa,—
* * *
He holler "Chris'mus-gif'!" an' say,— "I'm got back home fer Chris'mus-Day!— An' Uncle Sid's here, too—an' he Is nibblin' 'ro
un' yer Chris'mus-Tree!"
* * *
Nen Uncle holler, "I suppose Yer Pa's so proud he's froze his nose He wants to turn it up at us, 'Cause Santy kick' up such a fuss— Tetchin' hisse'f off same as ef He wuz his own fireworks hisse'f!" An' when we're down-stairs,—shore enough, Pa's nose is froze an' salve an' stuff All on it—an' one hand's froze, too, An' got a old yarn red-and-blue Mitt on it—"An' he's froze some more Acrost his chist, an' kindo' sore
* * *
All roun' his dy-fram," Uncle say.— "But Pa he'd ort a-seen the way Santy bear up last night when that- Air fire break out, an' quicker'n scat He's all a-blazin', an' them-'air Gun-cotton whiskers that he wear Ist flashin'!—till I burn a hole In the snow with him, and he roll The front-yard dry as Chris'mus jokes Old parents plays on little folks! But, long's a smell o' tow er wool, I kep' him rollin' beautiful!—
* * *
Till I wuz shore I shorely see He's squenched! W'y, hadn't b'en fer me, That old man might a-burnt clear down Clean—plum'—level with the groun'!" Nen Ma say, "There, Sid; that'll do!— Breakfast is ready—Chris'mus, too.— Your voice 'ud soun' best, sayin' Grace— Say it." An' Uncle bow' his face An' say so long a Blessing nen, Trip bark' two times 'fore it's "A-men!"
Watchman, Tell Us of the Night
John Bowring
Watchman, Tell Us of the Night
Watchman, tell us of the night,
What its signs of promise are.
Traveler, o'er yon mountain's height,
See that glory beaming star.
Watchman, does its beauteous ray
Aught of joy or hope foretell?
Traveler, yes – it brings the day,
Promised day of Israel.
* * *
Watchman, tell us of the night;
Higher yet that star ascends.
Traveler, blessedness and light,
Peace and truth its course portends.
Watchman, will its beams alone
Gild the spot that gave them birth?
Traveler, ages are its own;
See, it bursts o'er all the earth.
* * *
Watchman, tell us of the night,
For the morning seems to dawn.
Traveler, darkness takes its flight,
Doubt and terror are withdrawn.
Watchman, let thy wanderings cease;
Hie thee to thy quiet home.
Traveler, lo! the Prince of Peace,
Lo! the Son of God is come!
A Christmas Carmen
John Greenleaf Whittier
A Christmas Carmen
I
* * *
Sound over all waters, reach out from all lands,
The chorus of voices, the clasping of hands;
Sing hymns that were sung by the stars of the morn,
Sing songs of the angels when Jesus was born!
With glad jubilations
Bring hope to the nations!
The dark night is ending and dawn has begun:
Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun,
All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one!
* * *
II
* * *
Sing the bridal of nations! with chorals of love
Sing out the war-vulture and sing in the dove,
Till the hearts of the peoples keep time in accord,
And the voice of the world is the voice of the Lord!
Clasp hands of the nations
In strong gratulations:
* * *
The dark night is ending and dawn has begun;
Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun,
All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one!
* * *
III
* * *
Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace;
East, west, north, and south let the long quarrel cease
Sing the song of great joy that the angels began,
Sing of glory to God and of good-will to man!
Hark! joining in chorus
The heavens bend o'er us!
The dark night is ending and dawn has begun;
Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun,
All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one!
The Mystic's Christmas
John Greenleaf Whittier
The Mystic's Christmas
"All hail!" the bells of Christmas rang,
"All hail!" the monks at Christmas sang,
The merry monks who kept with cheer
The gladdest day of all their year.
* * *
But still apart, unmoved thereat,
A pious elder brother sat
Silent, in his accustomed place,
With God's sweet peace upon his face.
* * *
"Why sitt'st thou thus?" his brethren cried.
"It is the blessed Christmas-tide;
The Christmas lights are all aglow,
The sacred lilies bud and blow.
* * *
"Above our heads the joy-bells ring,
Without the happy children sing,
And all God's creatures hail the morn
On which the holy Christ was born!
* * *
"Rejoice with us; no more rebuke
Our gladness with thy quiet look."
The gray monk answered: "Keep, I pray,
Even as ye list, the Lord's birthday.
* * *
"Let heathen Yule fires flicker red
Where thronged refectory feasts are spread;
With mystery-play and masque and mime
And wait-songs speed the holy time!
* * *
"The blindest faith may haply save;
The Lord accepts the things we have;
And reverence, howsoe'er it strays,
May find at last the shining ways.
* * *
"They needs must grope who cannot see,
The blade before the ear must be;
As ye are feeling I have felt,
And where ye dwell I too have dwelt.
* * *
"But now, beyond the things of sense,
Beyond occasions and events,
I know, through God's exceeding grace,
Release from form and time and place.
* * *
"I listen, from no mortal tongue,
To hear the song the angels sung;
And wait within myself to know
The Christmas lilies bud and blow.
* * *
"The outward symbols disappear
From him whose inward sight is clear;
And small must be the choice of clays
To him who fills them all with praise!
* * *
"Keep while you need it, brothers mine,
With honest zeal your Christmas sign,
But judge not him who every morn
Feels in his heart the Lord Christ born!"
A Holiday Wish
John Kendrick Bangs
A Holiday Wish
When Santa Claus doth visit me
With richly laden pack of toys,
And tumbles down my chim-i-ney
To scatter 'round his Christmas joys,
I trust that he will bring the kind
That can be shared, for it is true
Past peradventure to my mind
That joy is sweeter shared by two.
I never cared for solitaire.
I do not pine for lonely things.
I love the pleasure I can share
Because of all the fun it brings.
A selfish pleasure loses zest
With none to share it with you by,
And shrinks the longer 'tis possest,
While joys divided multiply.
A Merry Christmas Pie
John Kendrick Bangs
A Merry Christmas Pie
Take a quart of pure Good Will,
Flavor well wi
th Sympathy;
Boil it on the fire till
It is full of bubbling Glee.
Season with a dash of Cheer,
Mixed with Love and Tenderness;
Cool off in an atmosphere
That is mostly Kindliness.
Stick a dozen raisins in
Made of grapes from Laughter's vine,
And such fruits as you may win
In a purely Jocund line.
Make a batter from the cream
Of Good Spirits running high,
And you'll have a perfect dream
Of a Merry Christmas pie!
A Toast to Santa Claus
John Kendrick Bangs
A Toast to Santa Claus
Whene'er I find a man who don't
Believe in Santa Claus,
And spite of all remonstrance won't
Yield up to logic's laws,
And see in things that lie about
