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Title: Lyrics & Legends of Christmas-Tide
Author: Clinton Scollard
Release date: December 27, 2021 [eBook #67022]
Most recently updated: October 18, 2024
Language: English
Original publication: United States: George William Browning, 1904
Credits: Tim Lindell, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LYRICS & LEGENDS OF CHRISTMAS-TIDE ***
Lyrics & Legends of Christmas-Tide
SECOND EDITION ENLARGED
Lyrics & Legends
of Christmas-Tide
Clinton Scollard
Clinton, New York:
George William Browning
M DCCCC VI
Copyrighted 1904 by Clinton Scollard
First Edition, October, 1904
Second Edition, enlarged, December, 1905
CONTENTS
Lyrics & Legends of Christmas-Tide
A Bell
Had I the power
To cast a bell that should from some grand tower,
At the first Christmas hour,
Out-ring,
And fling
A jubilant message wide,
The forgèd metals should be thus allied;—
No iron Pride,
But soft Humility and rich-veined Hope
Cleft from a sunny slope,
And there should be
White Charity,
And silvery Love, that knows nor Doubt nor Fear,
To make the peal more clear;
And then, to firmly fix the fine alloy,
There should be Joy!
To cast a bell that should from some grand tower,
At the first Christmas hour,
Out-ring,
And fling
A jubilant message wide,
The forgèd metals should be thus allied;—
No iron Pride,
But soft Humility and rich-veined Hope
Cleft from a sunny slope,
And there should be
White Charity,
And silvery Love, that knows nor Doubt nor Fear,
To make the peal more clear;
And then, to firmly fix the fine alloy,
There should be Joy!
Christmas Elves
If you walk on Christmas eve,
And the moon doth shine aright,
You will see them weave,—
Nimble gnome, and fay and sprite,—
Devious dances in the lustrous lunar light.
And the moon doth shine aright,
You will see them weave,—
Nimble gnome, and fay and sprite,—
Devious dances in the lustrous lunar light.
Round and round the holly bole
Will they dart and glide and spring;
And a tripping troll
Will they in a chorus sing;
Threading now in broken, now in linkèd ring.
Will they dart and glide and spring;
And a tripping troll
Will they in a chorus sing;
Threading now in broken, now in linkèd ring.
Berry bright, berry bright,
Be the love about your hearth!
Leafy green, leafy green,
Be perennial your mirth!
Sturdy as a holly bole be your footing of the earth!
Be the love about your hearth!
Leafy green, leafy green,
Be perennial your mirth!
Sturdy as a holly bole be your footing of the earth!
The Christmas Angel
In middle heaven a form behold;
Fair-aureoled
Her shapely brow with noon-bright gold;
Soli Deo Gloria!
Fair-aureoled
Her shapely brow with noon-bright gold;
Soli Deo Gloria!
Upon a little cloud she stands,
Within her hands
A tympanum with scarlet bands;
Soli Deo Gloria!
Within her hands
A tympanum with scarlet bands;
Soli Deo Gloria!
Thereon she playeth without fault,
While up the vault
Her voice makes silvery assault—
Soli Deo Gloria!
While up the vault
Her voice makes silvery assault—
Soli Deo Gloria!
Till, blended with her soaring notes,
Adown there floats
An echo from a myriad throats—
Soli Deo Gloria!
Adown there floats
An echo from a myriad throats—
Soli Deo Gloria!
An angel she of God’s own choir,
Whose one desire
Is higher yet to chant, and higher—
Soli Deo Gloria!
Whose one desire
Is higher yet to chant, and higher—
Soli Deo Gloria!
And every year, upon the morn
When Christ was born
Within the manger-bed forlorn—
Soli Deo Gloria!
When Christ was born
Within the manger-bed forlorn—
Soli Deo Gloria!
’Tis hers to bid song’s raptures run
From sun to sun,
And list to earth’s low antiphon—
Soli Deo Gloria!
From sun to sun,
And list to earth’s low antiphon—
Soli Deo Gloria!
Would that our praise might swell and rise
Along the skies,
And scale the gates of Paradise—
Soli Deo Gloria!
Along the skies,
And scale the gates of Paradise—
Soli Deo Gloria!
Nazareth Town
Nazareth town in Galilee!
Set where the paths lead up from the sea
That like the chords of a mighty lyre
Dirges over the rocks of Tyre,
Mourns where the piers of Sidon shone,
And the battlements cinctured Ascalon.
They have waned as the sunset wanes;
Little more than a name remains;
But more than a name we hold it,—we,—
Nazareth town in Galilee!
Set where the paths lead up from the sea
That like the chords of a mighty lyre
Dirges over the rocks of Tyre,
Mourns where the piers of Sidon shone,
And the battlements cinctured Ascalon.
They have waned as the sunset wanes;
Little more than a name remains;
But more than a name we hold it,—we,—
Nazareth town in Galilee!
Nazareth town in Galilee!
Ah, what a golden harmony
The dawn seems, flooding its bright white walls!
And, when the violet twilight falls,
What a vast processional of stars
Pageants over its stilled bazaars!
And when the full moon touches the height
Of Tabor, a torch of brilliant light,
Never was sight more fair to see;—
Nazareth town in Galilee!
Ah, what a golden harmony
The dawn seems, flooding its bright white walls!
And, when the violet twilight falls,
What a vast processional of stars
Pageants over its stilled bazaars!
And when the full moon touches the height
Of Tabor, a torch of brilliant light,
Never was sight more fair to see;—
Nazareth town in Galilee!
Nazareth town in Galilee!
Strumming a desert melody,
The Bedouin minstrel trolls in the street;
At the Well of the Virgin the maidens meet;
The cactus-hedges crimson to flower,
And the olives silver hour by hour
As through their branches the south wind steals;
A clear bell peals, and a vulture wheels
Over the crest where the wild crags be;—
Nazareth town in Galilee!
Strumming a desert melody,
The Bedouin minstrel trolls in the street;
At the Well of the Virgin the maidens meet;
The cactus-hedges crimson to flower,
And the olives silver hour by hour
As through their branches the south wind steals;
A clear bell peals, and a vulture wheels
Over the crest where the wild crags be;—
Nazareth town in Galilee!
Nazareth town in Galilee!
At the sound of the words how memory
Kindles as earth does under the spring,
Till the dead days rise for our visioning;
And out of them one compassionate face
Beams with a more than mortal grace;
Out of them one inspiring voice
Cries in the ears of the world “rejoice!”
And ever a beacon of hope shall be
Nazareth town in Galilee!
At the sound of the words how memory
Kindles as earth does under the spring,
Till the dead days rise for our visioning;
And out of them one compassionate face
Beams with a more than mortal grace;
Out of them one inspiring voice
Cries in the ears of the world “rejoice!”
And ever a beacon of hope shall be
Nazareth town in Galilee!
A Christmas Masque
FIRST KING
I am the monarch Melchior,
Mighty alike in peace and war.
Mighty alike in peace and war.
SECOND KING
I am the sovereign Balthasar;
A myriad fold my liegemen are.
A myriad fold my liegemen are.
THIRD KING
The royal ruler Jasper, I,
Lord of a spacious empery.
Lord of a spacious empery.
FIRST KING
Yet do I seek a little child,—
SECOND KING
A tiny nursling undefiled;
THIRD KING
And I am one likewise beguiled.
FIRST KING
SECOND KING
To Him whose life shall ease the sting
Of mankind’s weary travailing,
This fragrant frankincense I bring.
Of mankind’s weary travailing,
This fragrant frankincense I bring.
THIRD KING
To Him whose loving words shall stir
To aspirations holier,
My offering is this precious myrrh.
To aspirations holier,
My offering is this precious myrrh.
ALL
Piercing the mists of time, we see
The cruel cross, the agony,
And, whelmed with pity, bend the knee.
The cruel cross, the agony,
And, whelmed with pity, bend the knee.
Piercing the mists of time, we gaze
Adown the future’s opening ways,
And hear the swelling prayer and praise.
Adown the future’s opening ways,
And hear the swelling prayer and praise.
A Song for Christmas Morning
O wear for garment mirth
Upon the soul,
As all the fields of earth
Wear one white stole!
A dream of things long gone
Let sorrow be:
Turn thou thine eyes on dawn,
Thy heart on glee!
Upon the soul,
As all the fields of earth
Wear one white stole!
A dream of things long gone
Let sorrow be:
Turn thou thine eyes on dawn,
Thy heart on glee!
What wonder everywhere
Above, abroad!
The amplitudes of air
Abrim with God.
His presence shining through
The risen sun,
And in the bending blue
His benison.
Above, abroad!
The amplitudes of air
Abrim with God.
His presence shining through
The risen sun,
And in the bending blue
His benison.
The Christmas Minstrels
Now that the joy-day of the year is nearing,
In that fair sun-land set ’twixt sea and sea,
From hill and mountain dale behold appearing
With jocund strains a minstrel company.
In that fair sun-land set ’twixt sea and sea,
From hill and mountain dale behold appearing
With jocund strains a minstrel company.
The reeds that shepherds played in eras olden,
These are the tuneful pipes whereon they blow;
The sky that over-arches is the golden,
The bright Calabrian sky of long ago.
These are the tuneful pipes whereon they blow;
The sky that over-arches is the golden,
The bright Calabrian sky of long ago.
And since the decades of the saints and sages,
When here to Christ was first raised prayerful praise,
These minstrel men through all the echoing ages
Have heralded the hallowed Christmas days.
When here to Christ was first raised prayerful praise,
These minstrel men through all the echoing ages
Have heralded the hallowed Christmas days.
From lonely shrines on steep and stony byways
Their clear wild music up the pathway soars;
It gushes like a fount on traveled highways,
And through the populous piazza pours.
Their clear wild music up the pathway soars;
It gushes like a fount on traveled highways,
And through the populous piazza pours.
They cling to their old ways, these simple-hearted
And humble dwellers on the uplands high;
Their notes, an echo of the days departed,
Span gulfs of time, and bring the dead years nigh.
And humble dwellers on the uplands high;
Their notes, an echo of the days departed,
Span gulfs of time, and bring the dead years nigh.
Twelfth Night Song
Heaped be the fagots high,
And the half-burnèd bough
From last year’s revelry
Be litten now!
Brimmed be the posset bowl
For every lusty soul;
And while the maskers rule,
Cry ‘Noel!’ cry ‘Noel!’ down all the halls of Yule!
And the half-burnèd bough
From last year’s revelry
Be litten now!
Brimmed be the posset bowl
For every lusty soul;
And while the maskers rule,
Cry ‘Noel!’ cry ‘Noel!’ down all the halls of Yule!
Yule at Thengelfor
It was Yule at Thengelfor,—
The sharp white tide of Yule;
And the mailèd Thanes of War,
Bred in the fiery school
Of the devotees of Thor,
Flung into the council-hall
With sneer and clamorous call
At the calm-browed Thanes of Peace
Who worshiped without cease,—
Bending in prayer the knee
To the One of Galilee
Who died, as they said, for all.
The sharp white tide of Yule;
And the mailèd Thanes of War,
Bred in the fiery school
Of the devotees of Thor,
Flung into the council-hall
With sneer and clamorous call
At the calm-browed Thanes of Peace
Who worshiped without cease,—
Bending in prayer the knee
To the One of Galilee
Who died, as they said, for all.
Each man stood in his place
That sharp white noon of Yule,
And the War-Thanes hooted “fool,”
And “coward” and “craven knave;”
And they flashed, each one, a glaive
In every Peace-Thane’s face.
But the Peace-Thanes were not cowed,
Smiling their quiet smile
At the flaunts and threats and jeers
Roaring about their ears;
And they held them poised and proud,
Till, after a breathing while,
The tumult died like the sea
Subsiding sullenly
Around the breast of an isle
Set at the last fiord’s verge,
Fronting the western surge.
That sharp white noon of Yule,
And the War-Thanes hooted “fool,”
And “coward” and “craven knave;”
And they flashed, each one, a glaive
In every Peace-Thane’s face.
But the Peace-Thanes were not cowed,
Smiling their quiet smile
At the flaunts and threats and jeers
Roaring about their ears;
And they held them poised and proud,
Till, after a breathing while,
The tumult died like the sea
Subsiding sullenly
Around the breast of an isle
Set at the last fiord’s verge,
Fronting the western surge.
Then into the council-hall
Where Peace confronted War,—
Where Christ confronted Thor,—
Dauntless, willowy, tall,
Came a maid of Thengelfor,—
The Princess. Ah, how fair
Was the sunrise sheen of her hair,
More wondrous to behold
Than her coronet of gold!
And she paused between them there,
As white as the Yule was white,
Till a hush fell on the air
Like the hush of the middle night.
And she said, “What stand ye for?”
To the mailèd Thanes of War;
And they shouted shrill, “For Thor,
And the kingdom’s olden might!”
Then she turned her, level-eyed,
To the Peace-Thanes. “Ye?” she cried;
As in one voice they replied,
“For Christ, and the rule of right!”
Where Peace confronted War,—
Where Christ confronted Thor,—
Dauntless, willowy, tall,
Came a maid of Thengelfor,—
The Princess. Ah, how fair
Was the sunrise sheen of her hair,
More wondrous to behold
Than her coronet of gold!
And she paused between them there,
As white as the Yule was white,
Till a hush fell on the air
Like the hush of the middle night.
And she said, “What stand ye for?”
To the mailèd Thanes of War;
And they shouted shrill, “For Thor,
And the kingdom’s olden might!”
Then she turned her, level-eyed,
To the Peace-Thanes. “Ye?” she cried;
As in one voice they replied,
“For Christ, and the rule of right!”
“Thor and the war and might!”
Thus she mused for a space;
“Christ and peace and the right!”
And a glory mantled her face.
“Better the right than might,
Ye valiant Thanes of War!
Blood now the Yule is white?
Nay, ’twere a grievous sight!—
Better the Christ than Thor!”
Thus she mused for a space;
“Christ and peace and the right!”
And a glory mantled her face.
“Better the right than might,
Ye valiant Thanes of War!
Blood now the Yule is white?
Nay, ’twere a grievous sight!—
Better the Christ than Thor!”
A Yule-Tide Carol
O lightly lift thy finger,
Thou loving lutanist,
And let around us linger
Thy music’s mellow mist!
Aye, let the strain beat faster
In captivating time,
And mirth shall be our master
Until the midnight chime!
Thou loving lutanist,
And let around us linger
Thy music’s mellow mist!
Aye, let the strain beat faster
In captivating time,
And mirth shall be our master
Until the midnight chime!
Noel!—hang high the holly
While leaps the Yule-log’s light;
We’ll drive gray Melancholy
Abroad into the night!
While leaps the Yule-log’s light;
We’ll drive gray Melancholy
Abroad into the night!
With silvery touch and tingle,
Like brooks ’twixt sunny swards,
Each soaring voice shall mingle
And marry with the chords;
So shall the liquid laughter
Of mirth and music rule,
Till rings the roof-tree’s rafter
With revelries of Yule.
Like brooks ’twixt sunny swards,
Each soaring voice shall mingle
And marry with the chords;
So shall the liquid laughter
Of mirth and music rule,
Till rings the roof-tree’s rafter
With revelries of Yule.
Ballad of the Eve of Yule
It was hard on the tide of Yule,
And the wind bit shrewd and sharp,
Churning the river pool,
And turning the deep-wood boughs,
That were wont to droop and drowse,
To the moaning strings of a harp.
And the wind bit shrewd and sharp,
Churning the river pool,
And turning the deep-wood boughs,
That were wont to droop and drowse,
To the moaning strings of a harp.
A snow-threat gloomed the sky,
And with iterant, raucous caw
A bevy of rooks went by,
Each a seeming thing
Of evil, ominous wing
Flapping adown the flaw.
And with iterant, raucous caw
A bevy of rooks went by,
Each a seeming thing
Of evil, ominous wing
Flapping adown the flaw.
Then night fell over the fen,
And he mused, still stumbling on,
“Out of the world of men
Into the shades I go!”
And he grimly laughed, when lo,
A light on his pathway shone!
And he mused, still stumbling on,
“Out of the world of men
Into the shades I go!”
And he grimly laughed, when lo,
A light on his pathway shone!
“Mine enemy’s tower!” he said,
As the beacon beckoned him. “Well,
Succor were likely as bread
To be had from a shard or stone,
Or meat from a wolf-gnawed bone,
Or hope in the heart of hell!”
As the beacon beckoned him. “Well,
Succor were likely as bread
To be had from a shard or stone,
Or meat from a wolf-gnawed bone,
Or hope in the heart of hell!”
Yet he steered him sheer on the flare,
With a “Here or there, ’tis one!
A corpse in the morning air,
Frozen as rigid as steel,
Or a form on gibbet or wheel,—
What matters it how ’tis done!”
With a “Here or there, ’tis one!
A corpse in the morning air,
Frozen as rigid as steel,
Or a form on gibbet or wheel,—
What matters it how ’tis done!”
He clanged a summons clear,
Keeping his grip on hate;
And he wavered not to hear
A word from a tongue abhorred,—
Then back swung the outer ward,
And his enemy stood in the gate.
Keeping his grip on hate;
And he wavered not to hear
A word from a tongue abhorred,—
Then back swung the outer ward,
And his enemy stood in the gate.
Eyes upon burning eyes
Hung, as when war-fires rule
Under the angry skies;
Then, ere the wrath-flame died,
“Welcome!” his enemy cried,
“For this is the eve of Yule.”
Hung, as when war-fires rule
Under the angry skies;
Then, ere the wrath-flame died,
“Welcome!” his enemy cried,
“For this is the eve of Yule.”
Into the banquet-hall
He was bid as a chosen guest;
And there before them all
Did his enemy give him meat,
And bread of the finest wheat,
And golden wine of the best.
He was bid as a chosen guest;
And there before them all
Did his enemy give him meat,
And bread of the finest wheat,
And golden wine of the best.
Then was he brought to a room
Where rugs were soft on the floor,
And a fire made fair the gloom;
And, warned with a stern behest
Of the sacred rights of a guest,
A guard was set at the door.
Where rugs were soft on the floor,
And a fire made fair the gloom;
And, warned with a stern behest
Of the sacred rights of a guest,
A guard was set at the door.
Through the black night-watches long
Did he wait on sleep, but when
Came the peal of the matin song
No slumber had kissed his brow;
So he girded himself, for now
The sunlight lay on the fen.
Did he wait on sleep, but when
Came the peal of the matin song
No slumber had kissed his brow;
So he girded himself, for now
The sunlight lay on the fen.
Then once more did his foe
Proffer him drink and food;
Forth to the court below
Did his enemy lead the way,
Where, as one for a fray,
Chafing, a charger stood.
Proffer him drink and food;
Forth to the court below
Did his enemy lead the way,
Where, as one for a fray,
Chafing, a charger stood.
The Hanging of the Holly
The holly is for happiness;
Hang it, hang it high,
When the holy morn we bless
Shows its rose along the sky!
Hang it, hang it high,
When the holy morn we bless
Shows its rose along the sky!
The holly is for heartsome cheer;
Hang it, hang it high,
While the glory of the year
Lights the heights of all the sky!
Hang it, hang it high,
While the glory of the year
Lights the heights of all the sky!
The Maid of Bethlehem
It was a maid of Bethlehem;—
As fair as spring was she
When first lifts up its fragile cup
The rathe anemone.
As fair as spring was she
When first lifts up its fragile cup
The rathe anemone.
It was a man of Bethlehem;—
As dark of heart was he
As is night’s Stygian shadow cast
Upon the lone Dead Sea.
As dark of heart was he
As is night’s Stygian shadow cast
Upon the lone Dead Sea.
He fawned where’er she set her foot,
He followed her like fate;
And when she sealed his lips with scorn,
He held a tryst with hate.
He followed her like fate;
And when she sealed his lips with scorn,
He held a tryst with hate.
And then, as venom through the veins,
Through Bethlehem there ran
A whispered malice in the air
That spread from man to man.
Through Bethlehem there ran
A whispered malice in the air
That spread from man to man.
“And shall this living lie endure?”
In rising rage, they said;
“The purging fire shall work a cure
Upon her sinful head!”
In rising rage, they said;
“The purging fire shall work a cure
Upon her sinful head!”
It was the maid of Bethlehem,
In all her stainless grace,
They seized before the House of God
Within the market-place.
In all her stainless grace,
They seized before the House of God
Within the market-place.
It was the man of Bethlehem
Who led the throng elate
That bore her out with mocking shout
Beyond the city gate.
Who led the throng elate
That bore her out with mocking shout
Beyond the city gate.
Around her heaped they fagots high,
And touched the pile with flame;
“Behold!” they cried, “the wanton witch!
She expiates her shame!”
And touched the pile with flame;
“Behold!” they cried, “the wanton witch!
She expiates her shame!”
“O sinless One of Calvary,”
Then did they hear her say,
“Prove Thou my blameless innocence
On this, Thy natal day!”
Then did they hear her say,
“Prove Thou my blameless innocence
On this, Thy natal day!”
Lo, as she spake, each fiery tongue
Leaped on her foe of foes,
The while from charred and smoking boughs
Burst rose on crimson rose!
Leaped on her foe of foes,
The while from charred and smoking boughs
Burst rose on crimson rose!