 | A merry-go-round of song |  |
73
THE APPRENTICE
It was very early Christmas, but I couldn't sleep a wink,
Though the clock upon the stairs was striking three,
For my brain was making Mary twenty tales about a fairy,
To be told when she was cuddling on my knee.
Having finished the eleventh, I lay musing in my bed,
Till a crash among the fire-irons made me start;
But before I'd time to wonder at the shock of indoors thunder
Came a voice that somehow satisfied my heart.
Though the clock upon the stairs was striking three,
For my brain was making Mary twenty tales about a fairy,
To be told when she was cuddling on my knee.
Having finished the eleventh, I lay musing in my bed,
Till a crash among the fire-irons made me start;
But before I'd time to wonder at the shock of indoors thunder
Came a voice that somehow satisfied my heart.
“Since my bones are growing weary, and the winds are more than keen,
I have need of you to help me for a time.
You have gathered word-sweet posies for my breathing Christmas Roses,
And have set my Christmas chimney-pots to rhyme.
If I search the whole world over I shall never find a friend
With a larger love for children in his breast;
So prepare without a grumble to take headers, and to tumble
In a thousand nursery fenders on your chest.”
I have need of you to help me for a time.
You have gathered word-sweet posies for my breathing Christmas Roses,
And have set my Christmas chimney-pots to rhyme.
If I search the whole world over I shall never find a friend
With a larger love for children in his breast;
So prepare without a grumble to take headers, and to tumble
In a thousand nursery fenders on your chest.”
74
Then a cloak was flung around me. In a moment I had passed
Through the ceiling, and was perched upon the tiles,
With my face toward the county where the heart-delighting bounty
Of my playmate's lovely hair is known for miles.
But a touch upon my shoulder turned me quickly to the north,
And I listened to the Master while he spoke
Such a charm as set me flying over fields and hedges lying
Far beneath the moon-lit crimson of his cloak.
Through the ceiling, and was perched upon the tiles,
With my face toward the county where the heart-delighting bounty
Of my playmate's lovely hair is known for miles.
But a touch upon my shoulder turned me quickly to the north,
And I listened to the Master while he spoke
Such a charm as set me flying over fields and hedges lying
Far beneath the moon-lit crimson of his cloak.
As I flew behind the Master, with the toys upon my back,
He was singing, in the roundest sort of bass,
All about the happy fevers of the boy and girl believers
In his frosted beard and winter-cherry face.
Tiny bells began to tinkle on the harness of the goats
When he roared the chorus part with all his might,
And the very stars above him seemed to smile upon and love him
As he swept—a crimson comet—through the night.
He was singing, in the roundest sort of bass,
All about the happy fevers of the boy and girl believers
In his frosted beard and winter-cherry face.
Tiny bells began to tinkle on the harness of the goats
When he roared the chorus part with all his might,
And the very stars above him seemed to smile upon and love him
As he swept—a crimson comet—through the night.
By a certain damaged weathercock, I saw that we were bound
For a vicarage whose chimney-pots I knew;
And without a thought of peril I went plunging down to Beryl
And to Christopher and Hilary and Sue.
Ah, the more than loving look upon the face of Santa Claus
When he crept toward a couple sweetly paired!
By the way his blue eyes glistened when he turned his head and listened
To their breathing, I could tell how much he cared.
For a vicarage whose chimney-pots I knew;
And without a thought of peril I went plunging down to Beryl
And to Christopher and Hilary and Sue.
75
When he crept toward a couple sweetly paired!
By the way his blue eyes glistened when he turned his head and listened
To their breathing, I could tell how much he cared.
But the velvet of the eyelids and the roundness of the chin
We at last beheld in Mary's wooden bed!
From the valley of the pillow streamed a silvery-golden billow
Of the glory on that famous little head.
She was roses bunched with snowdrops as she lay with half a pout,
Half a frown, upon the beauty of her face.
There was never Christmas morning had so lovely an adorning
Since the Manger shone with Everlasting Grace.
We at last beheld in Mary's wooden bed!
From the valley of the pillow streamed a silvery-golden billow
Of the glory on that famous little head.
She was roses bunched with snowdrops as she lay with half a pout,
Half a frown, upon the beauty of her face.
There was never Christmas morning had so lovely an adorning
Since the Manger shone with Everlasting Grace.
Then I packed an empty stocking with as much as it could hold,
And arranged a garden city on a chair,
While the Master murmured slowly something tremulous and holy
To the innocent believer in his care.
I was smiling at the gilded cock upon the church's vane,
When the room and Mary rolled away in smoke,
And I felt my body dashing through the tiles again and crashing
With such force upon my bedstead that I woke!
And arranged a garden city on a chair,
While the Master murmured slowly something tremulous and holy
To the innocent believer in his care.
I was smiling at the gilded cock upon the church's vane,
When the room and Mary rolled away in smoke,
And I felt my body dashing through the tiles again and crashing
With such force upon my bedstead that I woke!
76
For a minute I was nearly dead, or else afraid to stir,
So I lay and thought of broken legs and arms,
And decided it was risky to accompany a frisky
Sort of wizard to the mansions and the farms.
When I told the story later to the children by the fire
There were questionings and cries at every pause.
I was tugged about and screamed at, I was kissed and stroked and beamed at,
As Apprentice to the famous Santa Claus!
So I lay and thought of broken legs and arms,
And decided it was risky to accompany a frisky
Sort of wizard to the mansions and the farms.
When I told the story later to the children by the fire
There were questionings and cries at every pause.
I was tugged about and screamed at, I was kissed and stroked and beamed at,
As Apprentice to the famous Santa Claus!
| A merry-go-round of song | |