 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
ON CHRISTMAS EVE.
A SIMPLE TALE IN RHYME.
I.—WANT.
That Christmas Eve the wild storm wind smote hard the window-panes,
Drew, pointing to the nor'-nor'east, the tips of weather-vanes,
And tossed the snow in heaps and drifts through city streets and lanes.
Drew, pointing to the nor'-nor'east, the tips of weather-vanes,
And tossed the snow in heaps and drifts through city streets and lanes.
Then—when at length the tempest ceased and moonlight came to crown
The roofs and chimney—wild with joy went people of the town,
Save one, who from a casement high looked sadly, wearily down.
The roofs and chimney—wild with joy went people of the town,
Save one, who from a casement high looked sadly, wearily down.
The lights blazed in the crowded shops where all went buzz and whirr;
With eager women and hurrying men the streets were all astir;
For them the joy of coming joy, but want and woe for her.
With eager women and hurrying men the streets were all astir;
For them the joy of coming joy, but want and woe for her.
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A dim light from a flickering lamp, in the stove a feeble blaze;
Neither could gloom from out the room, nor from her spirit raise,
As thought went back on dreary track to past and better days.
Neither could gloom from out the room, nor from her spirit raise,
As thought went back on dreary track to past and better days.
“Ah, weary poverty!” she cried, “with life continual Lent;
But little gained by constant toil, that little quickly spent
On scanty food and scantier clothes, and to feed the dragon—Rent!
But little gained by constant toil, that little quickly spent
On scanty food and scantier clothes, and to feed the dragon—Rent!
“Just now the fatherless Barbara, my darling child and sweet,
Robed in her little cotton gown, knelt praying at my feet—
It pierced my heart to hear her voice for a Christmas gift entreat.
Robed in her little cotton gown, knelt praying at my feet—
It pierced my heart to hear her voice for a Christmas gift entreat.
“How hard the prattle of the child smote both on heart and ear!
Her trustful hope that Santa Claus a doll would bring her here—
And I to know no doll, no gift, her little heart would cheer!
Her trustful hope that Santa Claus a doll would bring her here—
And I to know no doll, no gift, her little heart would cheer!
“The poorest child to-morrow morn will find some toy to please;
And she who in yon closet sleeps, when praying on her knees,
Had faith. Ah, me! her Santa Claus sleeps far beneath the seas.
And she who in yon closet sleeps, when praying on her knees,
Had faith. Ah, me! her Santa Claus sleeps far beneath the seas.
“How vivid rises memory of the year when she was born,
And how, as in her crib she lay one happy Christmas morn,
Her doting father trinkets brought the darling to adorn.
And how, as in her crib she lay one happy Christmas morn,
Her doting father trinkets brought the darling to adorn.
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“Three weary years have gone since he—the father—sailed away;
Two years ago the ship they spoke, somewhere in Baffin's Bay;
That was the last e'er seen or heard of the whaler Ellen Grey.
Two years ago the ship they spoke, somewhere in Baffin's Bay;
That was the last e'er seen or heard of the whaler Ellen Grey.
“And no one knows if the fierce pack-ice have crushed her ribs of oak,
If her bones lie on some rocky reef, by battering billows broke,
Or if she foundered in the sea, or burned with lightning stroke.
If her bones lie on some rocky reef, by battering billows broke,
Or if she foundered in the sea, or burned with lightning stroke.
“'Tis many a hundred years since He, the Son of Man, was born,
Who wrapped Him in a form of flesh, and suffered hate and scorn
To raise the lowly from the dust and comfort those forlorn.
Who wrapped Him in a form of flesh, and suffered hate and scorn
To raise the lowly from the dust and comfort those forlorn.
“Yet, spite of that, how many who for bread receive a stone;
And some there be, both poor and proud, who hug their want alone,
And die with pangs of hunger fierce, nor let their need be known,
And some there be, both poor and proud, who hug their want alone,
And die with pangs of hunger fierce, nor let their need be known,
“Who will not point to gaping wounds Samaritans pass by;
And so it is in this world of ours, where most things go awry,
The clamorous gain whate'er they crave, the silent suffer and die.
And so it is in this world of ours, where most things go awry,
The clamorous gain whate'er they crave, the silent suffer and die.
“Ah! death is not the worst that may the wounded drudge befall;
Death comes alike to poor and rich and spreads o'er both its pall;
But death is only the road to life, and God is over all.
Death comes alike to poor and rich and spreads o'er both its pall;
But death is only the road to life, and God is over all.
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“A worse than death, this ill-paid toil, this struggle bread to win.
To find as now that I have naught in basket or in bin—”
A smart rap sounded on the door, and she wearily said—“Come in!”
To find as now that I have naught in basket or in bin—”
A smart rap sounded on the door, and she wearily said—“Come in!”
II.—PLENTY.
Came in a rugged butcher boy, with more of strength than grace,
A heavy basket on his arm, a grin upon his face,
That was so full of cheery fun, it seemed to light the place.
A heavy basket on his arm, a grin upon his face,
That was so full of cheery fun, it seemed to light the place.
“There is a turkey, mum,” he said, “the finest in the shop;
Them's rattlin' cranberries in the box—the biggest in the crop;
There's chops, that sal'ry's a bo-kay—” Amazed, she uttered, “Stop!
Them's rattlin' cranberries in the box—the biggest in the crop;
There's chops, that sal'ry's a bo-kay—” Amazed, she uttered, “Stop!
“I did not order these, my boy; they are not meant for me;
You're laboring under some mistake.” “Well, I guess not,” quoth he.
“See here, mum, you are Mrs. Grey, fourth floor, at forty-three.
You're laboring under some mistake.” “Well, I guess not,” quoth he.
“See here, mum, you are Mrs. Grey, fourth floor, at forty-three.
“Of course you are. Then them is yourn, and them there goods'll stay—
I never make mistakes, I don't. There's nothin', mum, to pay.”
And then that ungrammatical boy downstairs went whistling gay.
I never make mistakes, I don't. There's nothin', mum, to pay.”
And then that ungrammatical boy downstairs went whistling gay.
What generous hand it was that gave she could not even guess;
Had she but dared to hope, her hope had fallen far short of less,
And now she knew her words too weak her feelings to express.
Had she but dared to hope, her hope had fallen far short of less,
And now she knew her words too weak her feelings to express.
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“Such want before, and plenty now,” she said, and dropped a tear—
“God bless the giver, whoe'er it be, who sends this welcome cheer;
But, ah! there are but two of us—if John were only here!”
“God bless the giver, whoe'er it be, who sends this welcome cheer;
But, ah! there are but two of us—if John were only here!”
Some lumbering steps upon the stairs, much knocking by the way,
Two stout men entered, laden down, and naught they had to say
Beyond, “Here are the groceries for Mrs. Ellen Grey.”
Two stout men entered, laden down, and naught they had to say
Beyond, “Here are the groceries for Mrs. Ellen Grey.”
“But who—but who—” she stammered forth, “who sent these goods to me?”
“As stout and bluff a sailor, ma'am, as ever came from sea;
‘For Mrs. Grey,’ was all he said, but he spent his money free.”
“As stout and bluff a sailor, ma'am, as ever came from sea;
‘For Mrs. Grey,’ was all he said, but he spent his money free.”
Great packages the porters piled on table, chairs, and floor—
A horn of plenty shaken out—till they could pile no more,
Then shouldering their hampers huge they vanished through the door.
A horn of plenty shaken out—till they could pile no more,
Then shouldering their hampers huge they vanished through the door.
Through Nelly's brain there surged a wave of mingled hope and dread—
What words were these that carelessly that night the man had said—
Ah! could it be the cruel sea had given up its dead?
What words were these that carelessly that night the man had said—
Ah! could it be the cruel sea had given up its dead?
A gentle rap! With trembling hands she opened wide the door;
A woman there whose face and form she once had seen before,
Who gazed with sweet and kindly smile upon the plenteous store.
A woman there whose face and form she once had seen before,
Who gazed with sweet and kindly smile upon the plenteous store.
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Emotion thrilled the visitor. “My name is Mrs. Cruise;
We occupy a flat below—you surely can't refuse
A kind reception when I bring—but can you bear good news?”
We occupy a flat below—you surely can't refuse
A kind reception when I bring—but can you bear good news?”
“My husband!” “He is in our room.” One moment, she was gone,
And Ellen heard a well-known step, as close her breath was drawn;
A strong man clasped her in his arms; but all she said was—“John!”
And Ellen heard a well-known step, as close her breath was drawn;
A strong man clasped her in his arms; but all she said was—“John!”
III.—BARBARA.
There seated with his wife on knee, the happy sailor said:
“We wonder much, we whalers do, why all you people dread
This little snow on ground below, and little cold o'erhead.
“We wonder much, we whalers do, why all you people dread
This little snow on ground below, and little cold o'erhead.
“Were they to make a voyage once within the Arctic seas,
What they esteem a blizzard here would seem a gentle breeze—
I tell you, Nell, the weather there knows really how to freeze.
What they esteem a blizzard here would seem a gentle breeze—
I tell you, Nell, the weather there knows really how to freeze.
“Your fire is scanty—even for you”—and here he awkward laughed;
“But cheer up, lass, we'll load ere long more coal upon this craft,
And make all shipshape here and trim, and snug both fore and aft.
“But cheer up, lass, we'll load ere long more coal upon this craft,
And make all shipshape here and trim, and snug both fore and aft.
“And why none heard a word from us—ay, ay! you want to know;
It seems to me as I sit here 'twas fifty years ago
Since we were locked up close and tight within that ugly floe.
It seems to me as I sit here 'twas fifty years ago
Since we were locked up close and tight within that ugly floe.
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“Jammed in by ice-packs on the day we filled up, decks and all,
And hardly room enough on board for men to pull and haul,
And powerless there we saw the ice around us creep and crawl.
And hardly room enough on board for men to pull and haul,
And powerless there we saw the ice around us creep and crawl.
“And thus we were for nigh two years, all frozen hard and fast,
Nothing to see on every side beyond the ice-field vast,
And weary life through dreary days continual we passed.
Nothing to see on every side beyond the ice-field vast,
And weary life through dreary days continual we passed.
“Not altogether dull the time; we frequent hunted seals
Coming to holes in ice for air; we were not scant of meals;
But, oh! how homesick in such plights the weary mariner feels!
Coming to holes in ice for air; we were not scant of meals;
But, oh! how homesick in such plights the weary mariner feels!
“At length the great floe broke in twain upon an autumn day;
It broke in twain just at the place where our stout vessel lay—
I tell you he was a master-hand that built the Ellen Grey!
It broke in twain just at the place where our stout vessel lay—
I tell you he was a master-hand that built the Ellen Grey!
“What time I had the vessel launched, and called her after you,
I knew the name would be a spell to keep her staunch and true:
And oft amid that waste I thought of Barbara and you.
I knew the name would be a spell to keep her staunch and true:
And oft amid that waste I thought of Barbara and you.
“And so when Salem's wharves I reached and found you gone away,
I let the mate the cargo break; I did not stop or stay,
But sought New York and only found the place you lived to-day.”
I let the mate the cargo break; I did not stop or stay,
But sought New York and only found the place you lived to-day.”
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“But what is in that package, John?” He opened it and smiled;
“I bought a doll for Barbara.” “For Barbara! She'll be wild!
She prayed for one from Santa Claus.” “She did! Where is the child?”
“I bought a doll for Barbara.” “For Barbara! She'll be wild!
She prayed for one from Santa Claus.” “She did! Where is the child?”
Faint creak of hinges and a step, scarce heard, upon the floor;
They gazed upon the picture framed in that half-open door—
A blue-eyed, barefoot child, whose locks fell neck and shoulders o'er.
They gazed upon the picture framed in that half-open door—
A blue-eyed, barefoot child, whose locks fell neck and shoulders o'er.
The father rose, with doll in hand, as she in gladness cries,
With joy of fruited hope that fills her eager gazing eyes—
“It's Santa Claus, an' there's my doll!” then stands in shy surprise.
With joy of fruited hope that fills her eager gazing eyes—
“It's Santa Claus, an' there's my doll!” then stands in shy surprise.
“How do you know me, Barbara?” her father asked. “Ah! there!
I know you by the great fur cap that lies upon the chair,
An' that fur coat—you beau'ful doll! an' all that beard an' hair!”
I know you by the great fur cap that lies upon the chair,
An' that fur coat—you beau'ful doll! an' all that beard an' hair!”
The seaman caught his little child in rapture to his heart.
“Your father, dear,” the mother said, while happy teardrops start.
“Your father, back from icy seas, to never from us part!”
“Your father, dear,” the mother said, while happy teardrops start.
“Your father, back from icy seas, to never from us part!”
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |