 | Sonnets by the Rev. Charles Turner [i.e. Charles Tennyson] |  |
96
A NON-NATURAL CHRISTMAS.
O Christmas hollies! O thrice-blessed morn!Again with thy dear message art thou come,
A word of joy to thousands, but to some
A fable among fables, ‘Christ is born!’
Hold off the hour to which our folly leans,
When priesthood in his own white robe shall stand
Forsworn—amid the faithful evergreens!
A thief—a traitor to his own right hand!
Once perjured and ordained, what follows next?
Whene'er, as preacher, to his flock he speaks,
The self-yoked sophist, fretting at his text,
Will rub against its meaning—while the weeks
And months drag on his hollow Christian year—
Woe to faint hearts! we must not falter here.
| Sonnets by the Rev. Charles Turner [i.e. Charles Tennyson] | |