CHRISTMAS IN POETRY

Evening Star, Issue 20982, 22 December 1931, Page 5

CHRISTMAS IN POETRY

[Written by H. H. Drives, for the ‘ Evening Star.’]

In view of the supreme importance of the event which every recurring Christmas celebrates, it is rather remarkable that it has not exercised a mightier influence on our English literature. If it be true, as the confessions of all Christian churches affirm, that nineteen centuries ago God became incarnate in the babe born of the Hebrew maiden Mary at Bethlehem, the event outrivals every - other event that has occurred upon this planet. The advent of the Redeemer invests this earth with a dignity that nothing else could give it. It sheds over human life a glory which it never otherwise could have. It relieves the darkest mysteries of life, solves the profoundest perplexities that have harassed the human mind. It introduced to the world a new calendar, and drew a sharp line between n.c. and a.d., and has .affected the chronology of all later time. It has inspired Social festivities which are world-wide in their popularity, and has softened and sweetened human relationships to an unspeakable degree. Yet, as we say, in view of the sublimity of the truths Christmas annually recalls and the surpassing beneficence of the influence it has exerted in human history, it is wonderful that it has not figured more largely in the works of our most eminent poets. The ancient carols, with all their_ quaint conceits, have, of course, an abiding charm; and the hymnals of all Christian churches contain hymns which possess a literary beauty which befits the peerless truth they enshrine. Congregations the world over sing these favourite hymns in stately cathedrals and lowly conventicles, and seldom think of their gifted authors, whose poetic talents produced the sacred strains in which they express their Christmas joy and px-aise. May we refer to some of these sweet singers ? It is to the fertile pen of Charles Wesley that the Christian world owes the' ever-popular ‘ Hark! The Herald' Angels Sing.’ It was written nearly two centuries ago, and is as well known as the uuriv'alled hymn by the same famous author, ‘ Jesu, Lover of My Soul.’ A prime favourite at Christina* time is John Byrom’s humy;Christians, awake, salute the happy morn, Whereon the Saviour of the world xvas born, which was written in 1745 as a Christmas present to his daughter Dolly. The very MS of this unique gift is preserved as a special treasure in Clxeetham’s Hospital, Manchester, and is headed: “Christmas Day for Dolly.” John Wainwright, organist 'of Manchester Paris Church, saw the carol in the Manchester ‘Mercury,’ in xvhicli it was first published in 1746, and composed for it the beautiful tune, ‘ Yorkshire,’ or ‘ Wainwright,’ to which it is not universally sung. Byrom and Dolly had the joy of hearing the organist and his choir caiTolling her hymn under their window on the first Christmas morniiig after it had been written.

A lovely Christmas, hymn of later date is Mr William Chatterton Dix’s:—

As with gladness men of old Did the guiding star behold.

It was written about 1860, as the author was recovering from a severe illness, and was reckoned by Lord Selbourne, compiler of ‘ The Book of Praise,’ to be one of tl|e finest compositions of lits kind in the whole range of hymnology. To Canon Oakely’s skill as a poet and translator we owe the familiar

O como all ye faithful, Joyful and triumphant. It translates a Latin hymn, ‘ Adeste Fideles,’ by Bonaventura, of the thirteenth century, and has itself been translated into many languages. The canon had written an earlier version in 1841, when ho was incumbent of Margaret Street Chapel, London; hut wrote the present popular rendering in 1852, after he had seceded to the Church of Rome. Another version of the ‘ Adeste Fideles ’ is by Rev. William Mercer, vicar of St. George’s,, Sheffield, who died in 1873, aged sixty-two.

An American author, Edmund Hamilton Sears, wrote in 1849 a Christmas hymn of rare beauty: It came upon the midnight clear, That glorious song of old. It suits any day of the Christian year because of its tender sympathy with the suffering and sorrowing of the world, but is specially adapted to Christmastide. Do not these fine verses specially suit these distressful times of ours?

And ye, beneath life’s crushing load, Whose forms are bending low, Who toil along the climbing way With painful steps and slow, Look up! for glad and golden hour* Come swiftly on the wing: 0 rest beside the weary road, And hear the angels sing! For lo! the days are hastening on, By prophet bards foretold, When, with the ever-circling years. Comes round the age of gold: When peace shall over all the earth Its ancient splendours fling, And the whole world send back the • song Which now the angels sing.

The powerful and popular American preachex-, Bishop Phillips Brooks, has given us—--0 little town of Bethlehem, How. still xve see thee lie! Reginald Hever, Bishop of Calcutta, author of the famous missionary hymn, ‘ From Greenland’s Icy Mountains,’ has enriched our hymnals with his beautiful ‘ Brightest and Best of the Sons of the Morning,’ to which Sir Frederick Bridge wrote the fine tune called ‘ Spean.’ Canon Farrar, when he was a tutor at Harrow School, wrote a Christmas hymn to be sung by the boys in the college chapel: In the field with their flock abiding, They lay on the dewy ground. James Montgomery, of Sheffield, who wrote some 500 hymns, gave us; Angels, from the realms of glory, Wing your flight o’er all the earth, which is deservedy popular, and finds a place in almost every hymnal. And to a German hynmist, Paul Gerhardt, we are indebted for a piece finely translated by Miss C. Windworth: All my heart this night rejoices As I hear, far and near, Sweetest angel voices. These are' the principal hymn writers who have put into melodious verse the stupendous truths associated with Christmastide. Christmas has inevitably found a place among our chief poets and touched their imaginations to fine issues.

Nothing more sublime has been written on Christmastide than John Milton’s ‘ Ode On the Morning of Christ’s Nativity.’ It was begun at Cambridge on Christmas morning, 1629, at daybreak, three centuries ago, but it has never been excelled for loftiness of tliought and splendour of diction. It is rich in classical allusion, and contains jewelled sentences which only an opulent mintJtlike iMilton’s could produce. Of the song xvhich the helmed cherubim and sworded seraphim carolled over the plains of Bethlehem 1,900 years ago, the poet says:

For if such holy song enrap our spirit long, Time will run back and fetch the age of gold, And speckled vanity will sicken soon and die, And leprous sin will melt from earthly mould. And hell itself will pass away, And leave its dolorous mansions for the peering day. T We may find bther references to the Jvativity in eminent poets of recent date. Tennyson, in his deathless ‘ln Memoriam ’ of his friend Arthur Hallam, feels that Christmas has lost its charm, since he whose friendship added so much to its delightfulness had passed into the dim unknown. Yet he sings of the splendid verity of the Incarnation : And so the Word had flesh, and wrought With human hands the creed of creeds, In loveliness of perfect deeds, More grand than all'poetic thought; Which he may read who binds the sheaf, And builds the house, and digs the grave, And those wild eyes that watch the wave In roarings round the coral reef.

Robert Browning’s ‘ Christmas Eve ’ js amongst the best-known of his poems, and may be regarded as' his personal confession of faith in the central item of the Christian creed. He pictures himself as driven by a storm to take shelter in a mean chapel where a few pious folk of low degree have met for worship. His refined tastes are offended by their rude ways, and his intellect resents the illiteracy of the preacher. So he flings himself out of the chapel. Yet as he looks up to the starlit sky ho reflects that the preacher, with all his crudity had dealt with truths that relieve life of its triviality and futility. He then catches sight of a mystic "Figure which had left the. chapel when he did, and laying hold of the hem of His “ sweepy garment vast and white ”, he is transported first to Rome, where he sees the pomp and splendour of the St. Peter’s, and next to Germany, where a high-brow professor tries ibo prove that Christ was only a myth. While he reflects on these conflicting views he finds himself once more in the lowly chapel and writes:

I.then, in ignorance and weakness, Taking God’s help, have attained’ to think My heart does best to receive in meekness That mode of worship as most to His mind. Where earthly aids being cast behind, His All-in-all appears serene, With the thinnest veil between. It is not easy to trace the poet’s thought in all its intricacies, but as giving the poet’s sense of the vital value of the truths he heard from the unlearned preacher, _ ‘ Christmas Eve ’ merits careful study. Sir Edwin Arnold, in ‘ The Light of the World, or the Great Consummation,’ attempted a poetic account of the life and teaching of Jesus Christ. He devoted much space to the little town of Bethlehem, to the shepherd visitors to the Holy Babe, and to the visit of the Magi. But it has been felt by all critics that this work fell far below his ‘ The Light of Asia,’ with its glorification of Buddha. The theme lay beyond Arnold’s ability. His attempt was praiseworthy, but his achievement was poor. Christianity has from the first been a religion of song. The Virgin Mother’s ‘Magnificat,’ as preserved by the Evangelist Luke, has been sung all through the Christian centuries by countless multitudes of devout worshippers of all communions. Gifted singers in many lands have enshrined in noble verse the lofty and precious truths they held. They have enriched our opulent English literature by their poetic productions, and have added unspeakably to the joys of Christmastide by composing carols and hymns which have become dear to all Christian hearts. Wo do well to remind ourselves afresh of the debt wo owe them. \