 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
THE CHRISTMAS-TREE.
Never in the forest dun
Struggling hard to meet the sun,
Never standing prim and stark
In some old and royal park,
Never in the valley deep,
Never on the rocky steep,
Never on the grassy plain—
Speck upon the broad champaign—
Such a sight the eye might see
As our last year's Christmas-tree.
Struggling hard to meet the sun,
Never standing prim and stark
In some old and royal park,
Never in the valley deep,
Never on the rocky steep,
Never on the grassy plain—
Speck upon the broad champaign—
Such a sight the eye might see
As our last year's Christmas-tree.
What its kind had bred debate—
'Twas a point of serious weight:
Some preferred the feathery pine,
Some the arbor vitæ fine,
Some the hemlock, some the fir,
Some the fragrant juniper,
Some the cedar melancholy;
But at length we chose the holly,
Bringing that along to be
Nucleus of our Christmas-tree.
'Twas a point of serious weight:
Some preferred the feathery pine,
Some the arbor vitæ fine,
Some the hemlock, some the fir,
Some the fragrant juniper,
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But at length we chose the holly,
Bringing that along to be
Nucleus of our Christmas-tree.
From the copse in triumph brought,
Into shape with patience wrought,
Here a straggling branch was lopped,
There a leaf decaying dropped,
Here a pendant twig was severed—
Well-considered, well-endeavored
Every alteration there—
Till it proudly stood and fair,
As all praised the symmetry
Of that well-formed Christmas-tree.
Into shape with patience wrought,
Here a straggling branch was lopped,
There a leaf decaying dropped,
Here a pendant twig was severed—
Well-considered, well-endeavored
Every alteration there—
Till it proudly stood and fair,
As all praised the symmetry
Of that well-formed Christmas-tree.
In the great hall next we placed it,
In a frame of wood we braced it;
'Round its base the moss was strown,
Cunningly as there 't had grown;
Flowers were there, too, not like Spring's,
Mere weak, artificial things,
Mocks of violet and rose;
Yet no blooms could please like those,
As we set them, in our glee,
At the foot of the Christmas-tree.
In a frame of wood we braced it;
'Round its base the moss was strown,
Cunningly as there 't had grown;
Flowers were there, too, not like Spring's,
Mere weak, artificial things,
Mocks of violet and rose;
Yet no blooms could please like those,
As we set them, in our glee,
At the foot of the Christmas-tree.
Yet our tree kept growing there;
Fruit its twigs were made to bear—
Oranges from La Habana,
From the isles the sweet banana.
Pears from California, limes
From the inter-tropic climes,
And, in all their red and gold,
Lady-apples of waxy mould,
Hung wherever one could be
Pendant from that Christmas-tree.
Fruit its twigs were made to bear—
Oranges from La Habana,
From the isles the sweet banana.
Pears from California, limes
From the inter-tropic climes,
And, in all their red and gold,
Lady-apples of waxy mould,
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Pendant from that Christmas-tree.
There were stranger things than these
On this wonderful of trees—
Skates for Rupert, furs for Milly,
Key of a chest of tools for Willy—
Chest that some time snugly lay
In the library hidden away—
Knitted hood for mamma, and
Smoking-cap for papa—grand!
Trimmed with gold braid gorgeously—
These and more on the Christmas-tree.
On this wonderful of trees—
Skates for Rupert, furs for Milly,
Key of a chest of tools for Willy—
Chest that some time snugly lay
In the library hidden away—
Knitted hood for mamma, and
Smoking-cap for papa—grand!
Trimmed with gold braid gorgeously—
These and more on the Christmas-tree.
Tapers many, and all was done;
But we lit them one by one
Just to see the effect, and then
Every light put out again;
Then, with lingering glance and action,
Showing voiceless satisfaction,
Doors we locked, and slowly crept
Past where sound the children slept,
Though 'twas chance if they or we
Dreamed the most of the Christmas-tree.
But we lit them one by one
Just to see the effect, and then
Every light put out again;
Then, with lingering glance and action,
Showing voiceless satisfaction,
Doors we locked, and slowly crept
Past where sound the children slept,
Though 'twas chance if they or we
Dreamed the most of the Christmas-tree.
When the Christmas eve had come,
Through the hall, to Willy's drum,
Marched we all with silent tongue,
And the door wide open flung;
Screams of laughter, shouts of joy;
Clapped their hands each girl and boy,
First a noise, then sudden pause,
For before us Santa Claus
Stood in well-furred jollity,
Guardian of his Christmas-tree.
Through the hall, to Willy's drum,
Marched we all with silent tongue,
And the door wide open flung;
Screams of laughter, shouts of joy;
Clapped their hands each girl and boy,
First a noise, then sudden pause,
For before us Santa Claus
Stood in well-furred jollity,
Guardian of his Christmas-tree.
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Silent, laughing much within,
Handing gifts amid the din,
Stood the queer and odd and quaint
Jolly, red-nosed, bright-eyed saint.
White as snow his hair and beard,
And the youngsters, half-afeard,
Would not go to him alone,
Until Willy, bolder grown—
Then a shout! Aunt Sybil! she
Is the saint of the Christmas-tree!
Handing gifts amid the din,
Stood the queer and odd and quaint
Jolly, red-nosed, bright-eyed saint.
White as snow his hair and beard,
And the youngsters, half-afeard,
Would not go to him alone,
Until Willy, bolder grown—
Then a shout! Aunt Sybil! she
Is the saint of the Christmas-tree!
Oh, what laughter! Oh, what fun!
Off goes beard! disguise is done.
“Tought it was Aunt Sib, betause—”
To that speech we gave applause,
And, without a non-content,
Voted Willy eloquent;
And we shouted, and we chattered,
What each talked on little mattered,
But we all averred with glee,
'Twas a wondrous Christmas-tree.
Off goes beard! disguise is done.
“Tought it was Aunt Sib, betause—”
To that speech we gave applause,
And, without a non-content,
Voted Willy eloquent;
And we shouted, and we chattered,
What each talked on little mattered,
But we all averred with glee,
'Twas a wondrous Christmas-tree.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |