 | A merry-go-round of song |  |
19
THE REVIEW
Upon the crimson carpet of a long and lofty hall
Stood Father Christmas, in a gown of purple edged with gold.
His forehead it was wrinkled, and the hand of Time had sprinkled
On his hair the white of winter; but his face was far from old.
The bluest eyes in all the world were gleaming as he laughed
And spoke a rapid sentence to the helpers standing near.
I wish the magic company had all been photographed
And framed and hung upon a nail for every little dear!
“Now, Jacky Frost and Lily Snow,”
Said Father Christmas, speaking low,
“Remember every tub and spout
And all the gutters round about,
And run your ways on hearing—Go!
Stood Father Christmas, in a gown of purple edged with gold.
His forehead it was wrinkled, and the hand of Time had sprinkled
On his hair the white of winter; but his face was far from old.
The bluest eyes in all the world were gleaming as he laughed
And spoke a rapid sentence to the helpers standing near.
I wish the magic company had all been photographed
And framed and hung upon a nail for every little dear!
“Now, Jacky Frost and Lily Snow,”
Said Father Christmas, speaking low,
“Remember every tub and spout
And all the gutters round about,
And run your ways on hearing—Go!
“You both shall see before you start the multitude of toys
By Fairies manufactured while I took a year of sleep.”
He signalled to a sentry who was watching at the entry,
And the giant portal opened on a staircase broad and steep.
Brigades of metal infantry tramp-tramped along the floor,
To crush the foes of England or to lie in glorious graves,
With whistling and with humming, with bandsmen proudly drumming,
With brass declaring splendidly that Britons won't be slaves!
“In payment for this dazzling show,”
Said Father Christmas, speaking low,
“Remember every window-pane
And every twig along the lane,
And run your ways on hearing—Go!”
By Fairies manufactured while I took a year of sleep.”
He signalled to a sentry who was watching at the entry,
And the giant portal opened on a staircase broad and steep.
20
To crush the foes of England or to lie in glorious graves,
With whistling and with humming, with bandsmen proudly drumming,
With brass declaring splendidly that Britons won't be slaves!
“In payment for this dazzling show,”
Said Father Christmas, speaking low,
“Remember every window-pane
And every twig along the lane,
And run your ways on hearing—Go!”
He crooked his fingers suddenly, when all the brilliant host
Departed in a second with the cannon and the shells;
And following tinny forces came ten thousand rocking-horses
With a melody of stirrups and a jinglement of bells.
They galloped by at headlong speed, and dolls of lovely shapes
Came dancing in—a multitude delightful to behold,
With hats of perfect beauty, and with bodices and capes
Of peacock-blue, woodpecker-green, and yellow-hammer gold.
“Now, Jacky Frost and Lily Snow,”
Said Father Christmas, speaking low,
“Remember every log and stump
And weathercock and village pump,
And run your ways on hearing—Go!”
Departed in a second with the cannon and the shells;
And following tinny forces came ten thousand rocking-horses
With a melody of stirrups and a jinglement of bells.
They galloped by at headlong speed, and dolls of lovely shapes
Came dancing in—a multitude delightful to behold,
With hats of perfect beauty, and with bodices and capes
Of peacock-blue, woodpecker-green, and yellow-hammer gold.
“Now, Jacky Frost and Lily Snow,”
Said Father Christmas, speaking low,
“Remember every log and stump
And weathercock and village pump,
And run your ways on hearing—Go!”
21
Then other toys appeared in turn upon the crimson plain,
Till Jacky Frost and Lily Snow grew giddy at the sight
Of metal stags and leopards, china lambs and wooden shepherds
For the stockings waiting weary for old Santa Claus at night.
Then Father Christmas made as if he juggled in the air,
And suddenly a little bed, with children in it, came,
That Frost and Snow might watch for once (you should have seen them stare!)
How Santa fills the stockings when he plays the Chimney Game.
“Now, Jacky Frost and Lily Snow,”
Said Father Christmas, speaking low,
“Remember every stack and rut
And hollybush and woodman's hut,
And run your ways. Get ready!—Go!”
Till Jacky Frost and Lily Snow grew giddy at the sight
Of metal stags and leopards, china lambs and wooden shepherds
For the stockings waiting weary for old Santa Claus at night.
Then Father Christmas made as if he juggled in the air,
And suddenly a little bed, with children in it, came,
That Frost and Snow might watch for once (you should have seen them stare!)
How Santa fills the stockings when he plays the Chimney Game.
“Now, Jacky Frost and Lily Snow,”
Said Father Christmas, speaking low,
“Remember every stack and rut
And hollybush and woodman's hut,
And run your ways. Get ready!—Go!”
| A merry-go-round of song | |