Poems (Waldenburg)/A Christmas Legend
Sacred.
A CHRISTMAS LEGEND.
In convent prayed a fervent saint of old
For answer how he best could serve his Lord.
"Think not,dear Christ, Thy servant overbold
That he entreats Thy presence or Thy word;
Show to my eyes Thy holy, heavenly glory,
Give me some mighty work Thy praise to tell,
Let me proclaim to wondering ears the story
Of Thine appearance in a poor monk's cell."
Twas winter, and the chiming bells outpouring
Upon the frosty air did sound so clear,
Like clarion notes of angels, who adoring
Chanted their songs, that Heaven and earth might hear.
The holy Christmas-tide was close at hand
The glorious season of the Savior's birth,
And gently falling snow o'er all the land,
Seemed telling of good will and peace, to earth!
For answer how he best could serve his Lord.
"Think not,dear Christ, Thy servant overbold
That he entreats Thy presence or Thy word;
Show to my eyes Thy holy, heavenly glory,
Give me some mighty work Thy praise to tell,
Let me proclaim to wondering ears the story
Of Thine appearance in a poor monk's cell."
Twas winter, and the chiming bells outpouring
Upon the frosty air did sound so clear,
Like clarion notes of angels, who adoring
Chanted their songs, that Heaven and earth might hear.
The holy Christmas-tide was close at hand
The glorious season of the Savior's birth,
And gently falling snow o'er all the land,
Seemed telling of good will and peace, to earth!
With praying eyes the monk in dream elysian,
Knelt with a trembling hope, and faith sublime
That to his longing gaze would come the vision
Of Him, whose reign shall be through coming time!
And lo! a silver light came o'er him streaming,
A dazzling brightness from another sphere;
And like a seraph's whisper heard in dreaming,
Was borne this sentence to his wondering ear;
"I hear your prayer, you wish a noble task,
And this I give you for my day of birth—
Make glad my children, feed my poor, I ask
Care for the suffering, sinful ones of earth,
Seek these, and comfort them, this charity
The mighty work that thou canst do for me."
Twas silent. Then with timid, reverent sight
The monk gazed upward and within his cell
Saw Christ the God-child clad in raiment white,
While round His shining form a halo fell
So bright he could not look, and bowed his head;
Then longing more to see the face so mild,
Lifted his eyes to find the vision fled—
The lovely vision of the Jesu-child!
Knelt with a trembling hope, and faith sublime
That to his longing gaze would come the vision
Of Him, whose reign shall be through coming time!
And lo! a silver light came o'er him streaming,
A dazzling brightness from another sphere;
And like a seraph's whisper heard in dreaming,
Was borne this sentence to his wondering ear;
"I hear your prayer, you wish a noble task,
And this I give you for my day of birth—
Make glad my children, feed my poor, I ask
Care for the suffering, sinful ones of earth,
Seek these, and comfort them, this charity
The mighty work that thou canst do for me."
Twas silent. Then with timid, reverent sight
The monk gazed upward and within his cell
Saw Christ the God-child clad in raiment white,
While round His shining form a halo fell
So bright he could not look, and bowed his head;
Then longing more to see the face so mild,
Lifted his eyes to find the vision fled—
The lovely vision of the Jesu-child!
The monk arose. Out from the convent door,
Over the snow to call the children in;
Begging for alms to feed the hungry poor,
And gather them the convent walls within.
From north and south, and from the west and east,
The erring, poor, and suffering, he brought,
Warmed them and made a glorious Christmas feast,
While on the birthday of the Lord, he taught
To them His mercy and His charity.
Then round the Christmas tree the children sang,
Their voices jubilant with childish glee,
Loudly the choral thro' the clear air rang
"Our Blessed Lord was once a child as we!"
"Dear Christ," low prayed the monk, "that this may be
In every year, my welcome feast to thee!"
Over the snow to call the children in;
Begging for alms to feed the hungry poor,
And gather them the convent walls within.
From north and south, and from the west and east,
The erring, poor, and suffering, he brought,
Warmed them and made a glorious Christmas feast,
While on the birthday of the Lord, he taught
To them His mercy and His charity.
Then round the Christmas tree the children sang,
Their voices jubilant with childish glee,
Loudly the choral thro' the clear air rang
"Our Blessed Lord was once a child as we!"
"Dear Christ," low prayed the monk, "that this may be
In every year, my welcome feast to thee!"
And we in age remote the lesson given,
Can we not also join this feast to make,
This glorious work to please the Lord of Heaven
Who lived and suffered for our human sake?
Give Him the feast, with children's joy and play,
And make the sad ones glad, on Christmas day!
Can we not also join this feast to make,
This glorious work to please the Lord of Heaven
Who lived and suffered for our human sake?
Give Him the feast, with children's joy and play,
And make the sad ones glad, on Christmas day!