As up I fared to Bethlehem-town, I met a shepherd coming down, And thus he quoth: "A wondrous sight Hath spread before mine eyes this night,-- An angel host most fair to see, That sung full sweetly of a tree That shall uplift on Calvary What burthen saveth you and me!"
And as I gat to Bethlehem-town, Lo! wise men came that bore a crown. "Is there," cried I, "in Bethlehem A King shall wear this diadem?" "Good sooth," they quoth, "and it is He That shall be lifted on the tree And freely shed on Calvary What blood redeemeth us and thee!"
Unto a Child in Bethlehem-town The wise men came and brought the crown; And while the infant smiling slept, Upon their knees they fell and wept; But, with her babe upon her knee, Naught recked that Mother of the tree, That should uplift on Calvary What burthen saveth all and me.
Again I walk in Bethlehem-town And think on Him that wears the crown. I may not kiss His feet again, Nor worship Him as did I then; My King hath died upon the tree, And hath outpoured on Calvary What blood redeemeth you and me!
DEAREST, how hard it is to say That all is for the best, Since, sometimes, in a grievous way God's will is manifest.
See with what hearty, noisy glee Our little ones to-night Dance round and round our Christmas-tree With pretty toys bedight.
Dearest, one voice they may not hear, One face they may not see,-- Ah, what of all this Christmas cheer Cometh to you and me?
Cometh before our misty eyes That other little face; And we clasp, in tender, reverent wise, That love in the old embrace.
Dearest, the Christ-Child walks to-night, Bringing His peace to men; And He bringeth to you and to me the light Of the old, old years again:
Bringeth the peace of long ago When a wee one clasped your knee And lisped of the morrow,--dear one, you know,-- And here come back is he!
Dearest, 'tis sometimes hard to say That all is for the best, For, often in a grievous way, God's will is manifest.
But in the grace of this holy night That bringeth us back our child, Let us see that the ways of God are right, And so be reconciled.
IN former times my numerous rhymes excited general mirth, And I was then of all good men the merriest man on earth; And my career From year to year Was full of cheer And things, Despite a few regrets, perdieu! which grim dyspepsia brings; But now how strange and harsh a change has come upon the scene! Horrors appall the life where all was formerly so serene: Yes, wasting care hath cast its snare about my honest heart, Because, alas! it hath come to pass my daughter's learned Delsarte. In flesh and joint and every point the counterpart of me, She grew so fast she grew at last a marvellous thing to see,-- Long, gaunt, and slim, each gangling limb played stumbling-block to t'other, The which excess of awkwardness quite mortified her mother. Now, as for me, I like to see the carriages uncouth Which certify to all the shy, unconscious age of youth. If maidenkind be pure of mind, industrious, tidy, smart, What need that they should fool away their youth upon Delsarte?