O happy night! that brings the morn To dawn above the Lord new born, And bids the angels sing again Their message to the sons of men — We hail thee! we hail thee!
O happy manger! that hath known This precious burden as thine own, Beyond all gifts the world doth hold, Of pomp and pow'r and gems and gold We hail thee! we hail thee!=
O happy star! whose radiance sweet Did lead the wise men's eager feet To seek the way, unknown, untried, That led them to the manger's side — We hail thee! we hail thee!
O happy day! that gave to men The Babe Divine of Bethlehem, The King of Kings, the Undefiled, In semblance of a little child — We hail thee! we hail thee!
O happy Babe! whose wondrous eyes Still hold the light of Paradise, Look down in blessing from above While Prince of Peace, and Lord of Love, We hail thee! we hail thee!
WILLIE WEE
By Mrs. A. M. Diaz
TWO lads were conversing as happy as kings, Of the coming of Christmas and all that it brings, Of the Christmas-tree and its many delights, Of the city shop-windows and other fine sights, When out spake wee Will, sometimes called "Willie wee," Though often "sweet William," or "little Willee," – Four years and a half or three-quarters was he — "Say! What kind of a tree is a Chrissermus-tree?" And the while they discoursed, as his wonder grew', With questions like these he followed them through: "Does it have big branches that spread all around? Do its roots stay deep down in the dark ground? Does it grow, grow, grow, way up very high? If you climb to the top will your head bump the sky? Do any plums grow on it, or apples, or cherries? Or any good nuts, or pretty red berries? Does it bloom out all over with flowers white as snow, As that tree does down there in our garden below? Do robins and king-birds build nests in that tree? And other birdies too?" asked little Willee.
"Yes," answered Ned, wise, school-boy Ned: "A Christmas-tree, young curly-head, Has branches, sure, but has no roots, And on its branches grow no fruits; Yet bright red apples there you'll see, And oranges of high degree — Apples and oranges on one tree!" "That sounds very strange," quoth little Willee. "No flowers bloom there, snowy white, Yet with these fruits – a curious sight — Are oft seen flowers both red and white! Should you climb to the top without a fall, Your head might bump against the wall, But not against the sky, you see, For indoors-stands the Christmas-tree!" "You tell very big stories," quoth little Willee. "No birdie there doth build its nest, No king-bird, blue-bird, robin redbreast, Yet eggs thereon are often seen. Of beautiful colors, pink, and green, And purple, and lavender, fit for a queen. Even eggs with pictures on them are found. And with golden bands which circle around. But from all these eggs so fair to see Are hatched no birds in that Christmas-tree; Instead, are hatched candy and gumdrops!" said he. "Are you telling the truth?" asked little Willee.
"I've not told half, I do declare, Of all those wondrous branches bear. Bear? They bear dolls and whips and drums, Tops, whistles, taffy, sugar-plums, And candy sheep, and candy cats, And candy birds, and candy rats, And India-rubber girls and boys, Bear trumpets and all kinds of toys, Bear books, and jumping-jacks, and mittens, And little cotton-flannel kittens; And over the whole of this Christmas-tree Candles are burning right merrily! What think you of this? my sweet Willie-wee?" "I think you are fooling!" said little Willee.
Next morning young Willie, with serious air, Put earth in a flower-pot, and buried up there A seed of an apple with very great care. "Pray, what are you doing, you rogue Willie-wee?" "I am planting a seed for a Chrissermas tree! Is not that good to do?" asked little Willee. – There came from that seed a green little shoot Which put out its leaves and firmly took root, And so finely did thrive that at last it was found Too large for the house and was set in the ground, Where it grew up, a tree, one scarcely knew how. Look down by the wall; it is standing there now. It blossoms in springtime, and many a nest Has been built there by king-bird and robin redbreast; And other birdies too oft come to the tree And sing there and swing there, oh, so merrily; They make it all summer our joy and delight; And in fall of the year 'tis a beautiful sight When the clustering wealth of its apples is seen — Its ruby red apples all set in their green!
– And Willie? Yes, he grew up, too, young Willie- wee, And went as a sailor-boy over the sea. He sailed in a ship to some far distant shore; A storm came – and – and – we saw him no more. It was long, long ago that deep sorrow we bore! The lads who were talking, as happy as kings, Of the coming of Christmas and all that it brings, Are fathers now, so stately and tall. Their children play by the garden wall, And swing on the boughs of the apple tree, Or climb to the top, the world to see; (Some have gone from the home the world to see!) And when autumn comes, and leaves turn brown, And the ripened fruits are shaken down, And here and there, on the orchard ground, The red and the golden are heaped around — 'Tis the children who gather that tree by the wall, And the apples from off its boughs that fall, With kindly care are stored away, Sure to appear on Christmas Day In platter or basket for all to admire, Or hung on strings before the fire, There to swing and sputter and roast, While many an one of the merry host Gives a tender thought to that first Willie-wee Who went as a sailor-boy over the sea. The youngest of all; a new Willie-wee, – A curly-haired rogue, and our darling is he! — Now claims for his own uncle Will's Christmas-tree. "Because," says the child, "he was named for me!"
ON CHRIST-DAY NIGHT
By Nora Perry
From room to room, from stair to stair; All silken-clad; while standing there Shut from the summer warmth and cheer, The silken perfumed atmosphere Of wealth and ease, a little maid With beating heart, yet unafraid, Enchanted, watched the fairy scene Between the curtains' parted screen. The fierce north wind came sweeping pa: t And shook her with its wintry blast; The frosty pavement of the street Chilled to the bone her ill-clad feet; Yet moment after moment fled And there she stood, with lifted head, Her eager eyes, as in a trance, Fixed on the changes of the dance,
DULCET SOUNDS
STATELY mansion, bright and gay With festal light, made darkness day Far up and down the dusky street That Christmas night, while hurry- ing feet Sped swiftly by, nor scarce de- layed For all the dulcet sounds that strayed In merry measures from within, Where harp and flute and violin, In soft accordance, wild and sweet, Made music for the dancers' feet. All silken-clad those feet that kept That time and tune, or lightly stept Her eager ears still drinking in The strains of flute and violin; And still, as sped the moments past, Colder and colder swept the blast.
But little heed had she, or care: Her glance upon one vision fair, One vision, one, beyond the rest — A girl with roses on her breast, And with a look upon her face, The sweet girl-face of Heaven's own grace, As through the dance she smiling led Her youthful guests, with airy tread.
"Ah, would she smile on me like this And would she give me kiss for kiss If I could stand there at her side?" The wistful watcher softly cried. Even as she spoke she closer crept, Upon the broad low terrace stept, And nearer leaned. – Just then, just there, A street light sent a sudden glare Across her face. – One startled glance, And from the changes of the dance. With beating heart and eyes dilate. The girlish mistress of the fête Sprang swiftly forth. – A moment more And through the window's opened door Another guest was ushered in. Her lip was pale, her cheek was thin,
No costly robe of silk and lace Apparelled her, and 011 her face And in her dark bewildered eyes A shock of fear and shamed surprise Did wildly, desperately gleam, While here and there, as in a dream, She vaguely heard, yet did not hear, The sound of voices far and near.
She tried to speak: some word she said Of all her troubled doubt and dread, Some childish word – "what would they do?" Then all at once a voice rang through Her troubled doubt, her troubled fear, "What will they do, why, this – and this!" And on her cold lips dropped a kiss, And found her frozen figure crept A tender clasp. – She laughed and wept And laughed again, for this and this, This tender clasp, this tender kiss, Wras more than all her dream come true: Was earth with Heaven's light shining through; Was Christ's own promise kept aright — His word fulfilled on Christ-day night!