 | A merry-go-round of song |  |
52
THE REWARD
I flung a splendid cherry-log upon the fire, and broke
A lump of coal, to see the flames of blue and green and pink;
I put two crimson cushions in my chair of Irish oak
And settled down to rest awhile from paper, pen, and ink.
'Twas pleasant, when the log began to crackle in the blaze,
And sometimes suddenly to spit, as though it were a cat,
To let my memory run about in far-off happy days
And dress me in an overall and ribboned sailor hat.
A lump of coal, to see the flames of blue and green and pink;
I put two crimson cushions in my chair of Irish oak
And settled down to rest awhile from paper, pen, and ink.
'Twas pleasant, when the log began to crackle in the blaze,
And sometimes suddenly to spit, as though it were a cat,
To let my memory run about in far-off happy days
And dress me in an overall and ribboned sailor hat.
I plainly saw my Mother, in the lilac-coloured dress
She spoiled the day we scrambled in the patch of raspberry canes.
I seemed to hear her calling me; I seemed to feel her press
Her handkerchief upon my mouth, to wipe away the stains . . .
What noise was that behind my chair? Whose breathing could it be?
What ghost had come to trespass and to make the sound I heard?
No wonder that the raspberry canes I threaded in my glee
Had vanished in a wink of time!—for this is what occurred:
She spoiled the day we scrambled in the patch of raspberry canes.
I seemed to hear her calling me; I seemed to feel her press
Her handkerchief upon my mouth, to wipe away the stains . . .
What noise was that behind my chair? Whose breathing could it be?
What ghost had come to trespass and to make the sound I heard?
No wonder that the raspberry canes I threaded in my glee
Had vanished in a wink of time!—for this is what occurred:
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A touch upon my shoulder made me feel as though a pack
Of goblins, ripe for mischief, had assembled near my chair,
Intent on ramming icicles by dozens down my back
And twisting all the curliness and comfort from my hair.
Each throbbing of my heart was like a blacksmith's hammer-stroke,
And well I knew that both my cheeks were looking snowdrop-pale;
But ere my tongue could find its use, an unseen Stranger spoke:
Old Santa Claus would much enjoy a chat with Norman Gale.
Of goblins, ripe for mischief, had assembled near my chair,
Intent on ramming icicles by dozens down my back
And twisting all the curliness and comfort from my hair.
Each throbbing of my heart was like a blacksmith's hammer-stroke,
And well I knew that both my cheeks were looking snowdrop-pale;
But ere my tongue could find its use, an unseen Stranger spoke:
Old Santa Claus would much enjoy a chat with Norman Gale.
At once a tide of happy blood came rushing to my face,
So sudden was the loss of fear, so sudden the surprise.
I jumped from out my easy-chair, and put him in my place,
And laughed a joyous welcome to the laughter in his eyes.
“Excuse me if I bothered you,” the Master kindly said,
“And made you think a ghost had passed in silence through the wall.
This year I've risen earlier than usual from my bed,
Before the time for chimney-pots; and so I thought I'd call.”
So sudden was the loss of fear, so sudden the surprise.
I jumped from out my easy-chair, and put him in my place,
And laughed a joyous welcome to the laughter in his eyes.
“Excuse me if I bothered you,” the Master kindly said,
“And made you think a ghost had passed in silence through the wall.
This year I've risen earlier than usual from my bed,
Before the time for chimney-pots; and so I thought I'd call.”
“I'm very greatly honoured.” “Please don't mention it!” he cried;
“I know you love me thoroughly, and never fail to sing
Of beds with counterpanes on top and human lambs inside,
And rows of stockings hungry for the packages I bring.
Because you make these songs for me, and make them with delight,
I'm eager to reward you in whatever way you pick;
So search among your wishes for the dearest wish to-night,
And let me have the pleasure of repaying you. Be quick!”
“I know you love me thoroughly, and never fail to sing
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And rows of stockings hungry for the packages I bring.
Because you make these songs for me, and make them with delight,
I'm eager to reward you in whatever way you pick;
So search among your wishes for the dearest wish to-night,
And let me have the pleasure of repaying you. Be quick!”
Because I scarcely knew at first what pleasant thing to ask
He wagged his half-a-yard of beard amusingly, and smiled.
“If kind enough,” I said, “to let me watch the lovely task,
Please fill the Christmas stocking of my Mother when a child.”
Before my busy silver clock had ticked a second dead,
The fire went out, the lamp went out, and such a blackness fell
As seemed to have the heavy weight of copper or of lead,
And made me think of darkness at the bottom of a well.
He wagged his half-a-yard of beard amusingly, and smiled.
“If kind enough,” I said, “to let me watch the lovely task,
Please fill the Christmas stocking of my Mother when a child.”
Before my busy silver clock had ticked a second dead,
The fire went out, the lamp went out, and such a blackness fell
As seemed to have the heavy weight of copper or of lead,
And made me think of darkness at the bottom of a well.
When blackness turned to moonbeams, I discovered at my side
A bonny child asleep among her locks of primrose gold:
I knew her in a moment, by the happiness and pride
That spoke to me of Mother, when no more than six years old!
Before I'd kissed the little palm laid open on the sheet,
I clearly heard along the slates a bumping sort of noise;
And next, to my astonishment, there fell upon his feet,
Among the ashes, Santa Claus, with oranges and toys!
A bonny child asleep among her locks of primrose gold:
I knew her in a moment, by the happiness and pride
That spoke to me of Mother, when no more than six years old!
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I clearly heard along the slates a bumping sort of noise;
And next, to my astonishment, there fell upon his feet,
Among the ashes, Santa Claus, with oranges and toys!
He packed her stocking tightly with the treasures he had brought,
And placed a doll upon a chair beside a walnut box,
Before he reached in front of me his blessing hand, and sought
To smooth as tenderly as I the wealth of golden locks.
“If other children in the past had failed me, she alone,”
He whispered softly in my ear, “was worth the deepest snow.
I loved her as I should have loved a lambkin of my own,
And always used to kiss her—thus!—some sixty years ago.”
And placed a doll upon a chair beside a walnut box,
Before he reached in front of me his blessing hand, and sought
To smooth as tenderly as I the wealth of golden locks.
“If other children in the past had failed me, she alone,”
He whispered softly in my ear, “was worth the deepest snow.
I loved her as I should have loved a lambkin of my own,
And always used to kiss her—thus!—some sixty years ago.”
No sooner had he kissed her than a darkness blotted out
The bed, the floor, the walnut box, the doll upon the chair.
I lost the beauty of the lips that slumbered in a pout,
I lost the primrose colour of the heavy mass of hair. . . .
What noise was that behind me? Who tugged me by the sleeve?
Who bade me rouse myself at once and join a game of Snap?
One nephew and two nieces! Yet I hardly can believe
That such a heavenly reward was nothing but a nap!
The bed, the floor, the walnut box, the doll upon the chair.
I lost the beauty of the lips that slumbered in a pout,
I lost the primrose colour of the heavy mass of hair. . . .
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Who bade me rouse myself at once and join a game of Snap?
One nephew and two nieces! Yet I hardly can believe
That such a heavenly reward was nothing but a nap!
| A merry-go-round of song | |