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An Offertory
Oh, the beauty of the Christ Child, The gentleness, the grace, The smiling, loving tenderness, The infantile embrace!
All babyhood he holdeth, All motherhood enfoldeth-- Yet who hath seen his face?
Oh, the nearness of the Christ Child, When, for a sacred s.p.a.ce, He nestles in our very homes-- Light of the human race!
We know him and we love him, No man to us need prove him-- Yet who hath seen his face?
Mary Mapes Dodge.
_Christmas Song_
Why do bells for Christmas ring?
Why do little children sing?
Once a lovely, shining star, Seen by shepherds from afar, Gently moved until its light Made a manger-cradle bright.
There a darling baby lay Pillowed soft upon the hay.
And his mother sang and smiled, "This is Christ, the holy child."
So the bells for Christmas ring, So the little children sing.
Lydia Avery c.o.o.nley Ward.
_A Visit from St. Nicholas_
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap-- When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow Gave a l.u.s.tre of midday to objects below; When what to my wondering eyes should appear But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer, With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick!
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!-- To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall, Now, dash away, dash away, dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle mount to the sky, So, up to the housetop the coursers they flew, With a sleigh full of toys--and St. Nicholas, too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound: He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot: A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes, how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry; His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly That shook, when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump--a right jolly old elf: And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings: then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere they drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
Clement C. Moore.
_The Christmas Trees_
There's a stir among the trees, There's a whisper in the breeze, Little ice-points clash and clink, Little needles nod and wink, St.u.r.dy fir-trees sway and sigh-- "Here am I! Here am I!"
"All the summer long I stood In the silence of the woods.
Tall and tapering I grew; What might happen well I knew; For one day a little bird Sang, and in the song I heard Many things quite strange to me Of Christmas and the Christmas tree.
"When the sun was hid from sight In the darkness of the night, When the wind with sudden fret Pulled at my green coronet, Staunch I stood, and hid my fears, Weeping silent fragrant tears, Praying still that I might be Fitted for a Christmas tree.
"Now here we stand On every hand!
In us a h.o.a.rd of summer stored, Birds have flown over us, Blue sky has covered us, Soft winds have sung to us, Blossoms have flung to us Measureless sweetness, Now in completeness We wait."
Mary F. b.u.t.ts.
_A Birthday Gift_
What can I give him, Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd I would bring a lamb, If I were a wise man I would do my part,-- Yet what I can I give him, Give my heart.
Christina Rossetti.
_A Christmas Lullaby_
Sleep, baby, sleep! The Mother sings: Heaven's angels kneel and fold their wings.
Sleep, baby, sleep!