Clinton Scollard

“ There are pleasures that glint and gleam,
And sorrows in drugget gray.
For some, with his infinite grace,
Love waits when the portal jars;
For some, with his sphinx-like face,
Death stands when the door unbars. ”

“ Piercing the mists of time, we gaze
Adown the future’s opening ways,
And hear the swelling prayer and praise.
Piercing the mists of time, we hail
The day when woe and sin shall fail,
And over all His love prevail. ”

“ Of quip and toast and madrigal;
“Noel! Noel! Noel!” cry all.
And yet joy seems a thing foredone
Forevermore in every place
Beneath the red rays of the sun;—
What is Christ’s mass that wrought man grace
Without the favor of love’s face! ”

“ Reason,—away with it! Men have grown gray with it,
Pondering why and considering how;
We have no part in it,—nay, and no heart in it!—
Under the droop of the mistletoe bough!
So, lads, your choices all! Lift, maids, your voices all!
Love levels prince with the man at the plough. ”

“ The throng swept by, and caught her in its swirl;
There was no lip to soothe the sobbing girl,
No kindliness to aid her. A great fear
Clutched at her breast; she knew the stabbing jeer,
The pitiless blows that waited her when she
Told the ill outcome of her errandry.
Then through her brain there flashed a sudden word
That in the hive-like purlieus she had heard,
And filled her mind with sunshine. No affright
Touched her with chill at thought of death’s dim night,
For she recalled how once the preacher said
That in white lily-gardens walk the dead. ”

“ Cry ‘Noel!’ cry ‘Noel!’ down all the halls of Yule!
{18} 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.
Each man stood in his place
That sharp white noon of Yule,
And the War-Thanes hooted “fool,”
And “coward” and “craven knave;” ”

“ 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!
These white spirits of old Yule,
Happy you who hear their tune!
Joy with you shall rule,
Life for you shall be a boon
Round the year through all the watches of the moon!
{9} The Christmas Angel
In middle heaven a form behold ”

“ Spake in no uncertain speech,
Saying, “In a manger lies
One who God to man shall teach;{39}
One who shall the night o’erthrow,
Bearing heaven with Him below,—
Love that triumphs over hate,
Peace and joy that conquer woe.” ”

“ Ah, no! ah, no! To them the memory
Of war is not, and monarchs play no part
In any thought that stirs an eager heart.
They have no eyes to see
A single graceful groining. What care they
If here, upon a bygone Christmas-day,
The King-crusader, Baldwin, took his crown! ”

“ Span gulfs of time, and bring the dead years nigh.
Long may the cool Calabrian laurel alleys
Hearken the strains, in rarer ether born,
Of minstrels wending down the mountain valleys
To greet the coming of the Christmas morn!
{17} 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!
O eager viols, thrill!
Pipe, hautboys, clear and sweet!
Work your impetuous will,
Ye restless feet! ”

“ From Lebanon’s cedars and their checkered shade?
The merchant and the snowy-mantled maid
Who hold great Nilus dear?
Why have they come,—the men with restless eyes
And pallid cheeks that tell of norland skies? ”

“ Every man has a weird to dree;
He will dree his weird this Yule-tide
Under the boughs of the holly tree.
In the north the pale auroras
Flash and waver spectrally;
But the purple shadows slumber
Under the boughs of the holly tree.
Over the burn bounds Neil MacDonald;
Through the bracken plunges he;
He has won to the purple shadows
Under the boughs of the holly tree.{33}
“O my love!” cries Neil MacDonald;
“O my love! my love!” cries she ”

“ And she—Cosette—through kindness’ golden dower,
Smiled upon life, and mended from that hour.
{76} Pilgrims
Their path who shall unravel,
Their purpose who unroll?
From out the past they travel,
The future is their goal. ”

“ Far into the night with song
Let us the old rites prolong!
Cry, “Noel! noel! noel!”
Until peals the midnight bell!
If we peace and love would win,
Let us hail the Christ-Child in!
{32} Neil MacDonald
“Whither away, O Neil MacDonald? ”