"YULETIDE IN FRANCE."

Sun (Christchurch), Volume III, Issue 699, 8 May 1916, Page 6

"YULETIDE IN FRANCE."

O little sprig of rosemary, I pluck, you in the garden, In this little Gallic garden, on this misty Winter's (lay. I can hear the old rooks calling. And the distant shells are falling. But this little sprig of rosemary has borne my heart away. 0 Utile sprig of rosemary, you bear me through the ages To the olden, golden Yuietidcs that our fathers knew of yore, When the midnight Mass hell ringing Set the carol singers singing. And sweet rosemary was scattered on the shining chancel floor. O little sprig of rosemary, I hear the song and laughter When the boar's head was carried in adown the armoured hall. And the rosemary and hay Were as sweet as new-mown hay. While the merriment of Yuletide was unit ing great and small. 0 little sprig of rosemary. 1 pluck you in the garden. And my heart is sore and heavy with the cares we have to -day. For the Christ has been among us And the Angel Hosts have sung us All the happy songs of Heaven, but they sounded far away. 0 little sprig of rosemary, as I pluck you in the garden. In this little Gallic garden where the brave are laid to rest, An I'.uglish mother weeping A sad. sad Yule is keeping. Remembering one wh.i once was the ChristChild on her breast. O little sprig of rosemary, 1 thank you for the dreaming, In this hallowed Gallic garden, i<n this misty Winter's day; Your mission is to leaven, 'lliis poor earth with thoughts of Heaven, When for those brave hearts that slumber here we fold our hands and pray. —Rev. Frederick George Scott, in the January 5, 1910. Montreal "Star."