We bow to Heaven that willed it so,
That darkly rules the fate of all,
That sends the respite or the blow,
That's free to give, or to recall.

This crowns his feast with wine and wit:

Who brought him to that mirth and state? His betters, see, below him sit,

Or hunger hopeless at the gate.

Who bade the mud from Dives' wheel
To spurn the rags of Lazarus?
Come, brother, in that dust we'll kneel,
Confessing Heaven that ruled it thus.

So each shall mourn, in life's advance,
Dear hopes, dear friends, untimely killed;
Shall grieve for many a forfeit chance,
And longing passion unfulfilled.

Amen! whatever fate be sent,

Pray God the heart may kindly glow, Although the head with cares be bent, And whitened with the winter snow.

Come wealth or want, come good or ill,
Let young and old accept their part,
And bow before the Awful Will,

And bear it with an honest heart,
Who misses, or who wins the prize.

Go, lose or conquer as you can;

But if you fail, or if you rise,
Be each, pray God, a gentleman.

A gentlemen, or old or young!

(Bear kindly with my humble lays):
The sacred chorus first was sung
Upon the first of Christmas days:
The shepherds heard it overhead-
The joyful angels raised it then:
Glory to Heaven on high, it said,
And peace on earth to gentle men!

On the Morning of Christ's Nativity 215

My song, save this, is little worth;
I lay the weary pen aside,

And wish you health, and love, and mirth,
As fits the solemn Christmas-tide.

As fits the holy Christmas birth,

Be this, good friends, our carol still-
Be peace on earth, be peace on earth,
To men of gentle will.

William Makepeace Thackeray [1811-1863]

CEREMONIES FOR CHRISTMAS

COME, bring with a noise,

My merry, merry boys,
The Christmas log to the firing;
While my good dame, she

Bids ye all be free;

And drink to your hearts' desiring.

With the last year's brand

Light the new block, and
For good success in his spending,
On your psaltries play,

That sweet luck may

Come while the log is a-tending.

Drink now the strong beer,

Cut the white loaf here,
The while the meat is a-shredding;

For the rare mince-pie

And the plums stand by

To fill the paste that's a-kneading.

Robert Herrick [1591-1674]

ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY

THIS is the month, and this the happy morn
Wherein the Son of Heaven's Eternal King,
Of wedded maid and virgin mother born,
Our great redemption from above did bring;

For so the holy sages once did sing

That he our deadly forfeit should release,

And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.

That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable,
And that far-beaming blaze of Majesty
Wherewith he wont at Heaven's high council-ta
To sit the midst of Trinal Unity,

He laid aside; and, here with us to be,
Forsook the courts of everlasting day,

And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay.

Say, Heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein

Afford a present to the Infant God?

Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain

To welcome him to this his new abode,

Now while the heaven, by the sun's team untrod,

Hath took no print of the approaching light,

And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright?

See how from far, upon the eastern road,

The star-led wizards haste with odors sweet!

O run, prevent them with thy humble ode

And lay it lowly at his blessed feet;

Have thou the honor first thy Lord to greet,

And join thy voice unto the angel choir

From out his secret altar touched with hallowed fire.

THE HYMN

It was the winter wild

While the heaven-born Child

All meanly wrapped in the rude manger lies;

Nature in awe to Him

Had doffed her gaudy trim,

With her great Master so to sympathize:

It was no season then for her

To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour.

Only with speeches fair
She woos the gentle air

On the Morning of Christ's Nativity 217

To hide her guilty front with innocent snow;

And on her naked shame,

Pollute with sinful blame,

The saintly veil of maiden white to throw;
Confounded, that her Maker's eyes

Should look so near upon her foul deformities.

But he, her fears to cease,

Sent down the meek-eyed Peace;

She, crowned with olive green, came softly sliding

Down through the turning sphere,

His ready harbinger,

With turtle wing and amorous clouds dividing;

And waving wide her myrtle wand,

She strikes a universal peace through sea and land.

No war, or battle's sound

Was heard the world around:

The idle spear and shield were high uphung;

The hooked chariot stood

Unstained with hostile blood;

The trumpet spake not to the armed throng;

And kings sat still with awful eye,

As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was by.

But peaceful was the night.

Wherein the Prince of Light

His reign of peace upon the earth began:

The winds, with wonder whist,

Smoothly the waters kissed,

Whispering new joys to the mild ocean

Who now hath quite forgot to rave,

While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmèd wave.

The stars, with deep amaze,

Stand fixed in steadfast gaze,

Bending one way their precious influence;

And will not take their flight

For all the morning light,

Or Lucifer that often warned them thence;

But in their glimmering orbs did glow

Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go.

And though the shady gloom

Had given day her room,

The sun himself withheld his wonted speed,

And hid his head for shame,

As his inferior flame

The new-enlightened world no more should need;

He saw a greater Sun appear

Than his bright throne, or burning axletree, could bear.

The shepherds on the lawn.

Or ere the point of dawn

Sat simply chatting in a rustic row;

Full little thought they then

That the mighty Pan

Was kindly come to live with them below;

Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep,

Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep.

When such music sweet

Their hearts and ears did greet

As never was by mortal finger strook

Divinely-warbled voice

Answering the stringèd noise,

As all their souls in blissful rapture took:

The air, such pleasure loth to lose,

With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly close.

Nature, that heard such sound

Beneath the hollow round

Of Cynthia's seat the airy region thrilling,

Now was almost won

To think her part was done,

And that her reign had here its last fulfilling;

She knew such harmony alone

Could hold all heaven and earth in happier union.

At last surrounds their sight

A globe of circular light

That with long beams the shamefaced night arrayed;

The helmed Cherubim

And sworded Seraphim

Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displayed,