Christmas with the Poets.

Waiapu Church Gazette, Volume I, Issue 6, 1 December 1910, Page 4

Christmas with the Poets.

From early times poets have written about the birthday of our Lord, and their songs invariably breathe a spirit of joy, of strength, of victory. There is something m the picture of the helpless babe m the manger cradle that tunes the faith of the Christian to concert pitch, and he believes with joy unspeakable, for faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen, and he knows that this helpless babe is the Wonderful, the Counsellor, the great and mighty Lord, the Prince of Peace, Who will redeem all mankind. So Christmas is the season when Christians forget their divisions m their joy over the birth of their common Lord, and the following verses have been chosen from sources many and various : — Whittier has a touching little hymn sung by children on the first Christmas after they have been freed from slavery, and expressive of their gratitude : — " The holy day that saw Thee born Was never half so dear." The very oaks are greener clad, The waters brighter smile, 0 never shone a day so glad On sweet St. Helen's Isle. The " Star of Bethlehem" describes how a lonely stranger m an Eastern land was cheered and his faith and

hope revived by the little flower, " the Star-flower of the Virgin's child." It leaned lovingly on the Persian flowers surrounding it, and the traveller no longer felt himself a stranger m an alien land, and amidst people of an alien faith, for the flower taught him that the Moslems, too, were praying to God, and seeking Him, though by a different path than the Christian. s. " Eaoh Moslem tomb, and cypress old, Looked holy through the sunset air, And angel-like the Muezzin told From tower and mosque the hour of prayer." A " Christmas Carmen" is a song of exulting joy, with its beautiful, pro* phetio refrain. "All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one." " 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 ! \ Eise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun, All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one ! " Blah has a lovely little Cradle Song, m which the following stanzas are found : — Sleep, sleep, happy child ! All creation slept and smiled. Sleep, sleep, happy sleep, •While o'er thee doth mother weep. Sweet babe, m thy face Holy image I can trace ; Sweet babe, once like thee Thy Maker lay, and wept for me. Wept for me, for thee, for all, When He was an infant small. Thou His image ever see, Heavenly face that smiles on thee ! Smiles on thee, on me, on all, Who became an infant small ; Infant smiles are His own smiles; Heaven and earth to peace beguiles." Blake sees m every child the image of the Christ child, for we are all called to be like Him, and the infant soul fresh from His hands still carries the Christ m its face. Itosetttfs mystical Sonnet on Hans Memmelinck's "Virgin and Child"

strikes the note of mystery and of strength :— ."'... " Mytery : God, man's life, born into man Of woman. There abideth on her brow The ended pang> of knowledge, the which now Is calm assured." The knowledge of all that shall be accomplished does not sadden her — she is calm m the strength of her God, and will endure unto the end. William BelU Soott m the {< Madonna di San Sisto" points out that the same beautiful thought was m the mind of Raphael : — " Behold me here, untouched by pain, But with foreknowledge of the day Still far away In darkness on the mount of death Defiled by malefactor's breath — When, 'It is finished ! ' He shall cry^ And the immortal seem to die." There is no death for the immortal babe she holds m her arms, and mother and child march through life and death to triumphant viotory. There is a curious " Midwinter Bucolic" by C. TV. Whatt, entitled « Two Babes" — the one being the New Year, the other the Christ Child. The New Year trembles at the burden laid upon him, and he asks : " I am sent these souls to win, How shall I my task begin ?" Christ: "Begin with me. On! take my hand, That here beseech, who might command. Let us wander forth together In this dark and winti'y weather." The New Year recognises the Christ, and gladly goes with Him, and as they pass out of the stable, he finds that the Old Year has left lying at the door a crown, and the Christ says : "Of thorn, Like the one that I have worn. But come with me and do not grieve : Men's hearts are open to receive The Love you bring to help their woe, For I bring Love." And the New Year replies : "Ah! let us go/ It is a quaint little poem, teaching that each year Christ plays once more His passion play— goes forth to suffer and to redeem mankind.

George Herbert 1 * " Christmas " has his own peculiar style—and charm — his own original ideas, expressed as only he can express them. It is impossible not to quote the first part entire: — " All after pleasures as I rid one day, My horse and I, both tired, body and mind. With full cry of affections, quite astray; I took up m the next inn I could find. There when I came, whom found I but my dear, My dearest Lord, expecting till the grief Of pleasures br ught me to Him' ready there To be all passengers' most sweet relief. < 0 Thou, whose glorious yet contracted light, Wrapt m Night's mantle, stole into a manger ; Since my dark soul and brutish, is Thy right, To man, of all beasts, be not Thou a stranger. Furnish and deck my soul, that Thou mayst have A better lodging than a rack or grave." How characteristic of him is the expression, " The grief of pleasures." Then he says he will seek a sun willing to shine as long a> he is willing to sing : — " His beams ffill cheer my breast, and both so twine, Till even his beams sing, and my music shine." AH lovers of Tennyson know his thrice-repeated description of Christmas m "In Memoriam." Tennyson was English through and through, and it is the holly, the Christmas pastimes, the Yule log, the -wassail bowl, the Church below the hill, that touch him to sadness as he remembers the past. "This year I slept and woke with pain, I almost wished no more to wake, And that my hold on life would break , Before I heard those bells again/ But they my troubled spirit rule, . For they controlled me when a, boy;

They bring me sorrow touched Vwith joy, The merry, merry bells of Yule." He passes through a mood of sorrow to a more joyful and "more Christian temper :— " Rise, happy morn, rise, holy morn, Draw forth the cheerful day from night; 0 Father, touch the East, and light The light that shone when Hope was born. , . (To be continued.)