 | A merry-go-round of song |  |
114
THE ASTONISHING DANCE
“Dear me!” quoth Father Christmas, while he stretched his legs and arms,
And eyed a coloured calendar that hung upon the screen,
“I've woke a day too early for the villas and the farms,
For homes however splendid and for homes however mean.
Come hither, glass!” A mirror flew and balanced by his side,
To let him see his snowdrop beard and winter-cherry cheeks.
His eyes (as blue as succory) were twinkling while he cried,
“I don't believe I've aged a bit in two-and-fifty weeks!
And eyed a coloured calendar that hung upon the screen,
“I've woke a day too early for the villas and the farms,
For homes however splendid and for homes however mean.
Come hither, glass!” A mirror flew and balanced by his side,
To let him see his snowdrop beard and winter-cherry cheeks.
His eyes (as blue as succory) were twinkling while he cried,
“I don't believe I've aged a bit in two-and-fifty weeks!
“This comes of sleeping like a log and never dreaming dreams
Of anything but bedtime crops of little children's hair,
Or else of rosy playmates hip-hurrahing on the streams
That Frost has given overcoats of silver ice to wear.
It's fifty years, or thereabouts, since such a thing as this
Has happened in the palace where I rest when work is done.
Ho! Fairies, come and dress me! It would worry me to miss
This chance of giving all of you an evening feast of fun.”
Of anything but bedtime crops of little children's hair,
Or else of rosy playmates hip-hurrahing on the streams
That Frost has given overcoats of silver ice to wear.
It's fifty years, or thereabouts, since such a thing as this
Has happened in the palace where I rest when work is done.
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This chance of giving all of you an evening feast of fun.”
I wish you children could have seen how fast the Fairies rushed
To wait on Father Christmas when he scrambled out of bed.
They washed him well with curded soap, they combed him and they brushed,
And laughed their jingling laughter at the comic things he said.
They took from out an oaken chest the crimson robe of state
And buckled on his willing feet a pair of scarlet shoes;
They brought a dozen sandwiches upon a golden plate
And special pies of mincemeat such as Fairies always use.
To wait on Father Christmas when he scrambled out of bed.
They washed him well with curded soap, they combed him and they brushed,
And laughed their jingling laughter at the comic things he said.
They took from out an oaken chest the crimson robe of state
And buckled on his willing feet a pair of scarlet shoes;
They brought a dozen sandwiches upon a golden plate
And special pies of mincemeat such as Fairies always use.
When Santa Claus had had his fill, with fingers and with thumbs
They searched the folds of crimson cloth and tidied up his beard,
And threw upon the carpet quite a lot of flaky crumbs
To feed a pair of robins that had suddenly appeared.
Then Father Christmas said to them, “It's long since there occurred
An accident so pleasant. Let them light the Dancing Hall!
And since for once I'm wide awake upon the twenty-third,
We'll rouse our ancient window-panes and rafters with a Ball!”
They searched the folds of crimson cloth and tidied up his beard,
And threw upon the carpet quite a lot of flaky crumbs
To feed a pair of robins that had suddenly appeared.
Then Father Christmas said to them, “It's long since there occurred
An accident so pleasant. Let them light the Dancing Hall!
And since for once I'm wide awake upon the twenty-third,
We'll rouse our ancient window-panes and rafters with a Ball!”
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In all of magic history there never was a night
So frolicsome as fell the night when Santa Claus allowed
To every housemaid Fairy and to every kitchen sprite
A chance to leap and glide and twirl and curtsy in a crowd.
The 'cellos and the violins were tuning in a trice;
A sort of dancing fever burned in every nimble heel;
So Father Christmas raised his hands and clapped them loudly twice,
And capered there whole-heartedly a most surprising reel!
So frolicsome as fell the night when Santa Claus allowed
To every housemaid Fairy and to every kitchen sprite
A chance to leap and glide and twirl and curtsy in a crowd.
The 'cellos and the violins were tuning in a trice;
A sort of dancing fever burned in every nimble heel;
So Father Christmas raised his hands and clapped them loudly twice,
And capered there whole-heartedly a most surprising reel!
Now, Hilary and Margaret and Christopher and Nance,
I beg you never more to think that Santa Claus is old.
His beard is quite deceptive! His ability to dance
Is simply such as never, never, never can be told!
The Fairies of his family all pride themselves on toes
That race the madcap violins and never want to pause,
But even they are humbled when the frolic music goes
Exactly fast enough to suit the legs of Santa Claus!
I beg you never more to think that Santa Claus is old.
His beard is quite deceptive! His ability to dance
Is simply such as never, never, never can be told!
The Fairies of his family all pride themselves on toes
That race the madcap violins and never want to pause,
But even they are humbled when the frolic music goes
Exactly fast enough to suit the legs of Santa Claus!
When Father Christmas waved his hand and spoke in muttered tones,
And let his secret magic loose within the hall of oak,
The 'cellos gained enchanted limbs—yes, limbs with proper bones!—
And played themselves while dancing with the nimble Fairy-folk!
Yet even then the headlong fun was hardly at its best,
For how the violoncellos scraped a kind of happy roar
While twanging from the lowest string the welcome they addressed
To Santa's favourite Grandsire Clock skip-skipping through the door!
And let his secret magic loose within the hall of oak,
The 'cellos gained enchanted limbs—yes, limbs with proper bones!—
And played themselves while dancing with the nimble Fairy-folk!
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For how the violoncellos scraped a kind of happy roar
While twanging from the lowest string the welcome they addressed
To Santa's favourite Grandsire Clock skip-skipping through the door!
Since breathless dancers left the dance and stood awhile aloof,
Again the Master's genius worked for everybody there:
A flock of knives and forks and spoons descended from the roof
And dishes heaped with lovely fruit came flying through the air!
When Caleb brought with Joshua from Canaan such a load
Of grapes as made the children leap in wonder and delight,
The bunch was scarcely bigger than the glorious bunch bestowed
By Santa on the Fairylings who danced with him that night!
Again the Master's genius worked for everybody there:
A flock of knives and forks and spoons descended from the roof
And dishes heaped with lovely fruit came flying through the air!
When Caleb brought with Joshua from Canaan such a load
Of grapes as made the children leap in wonder and delight,
The bunch was scarcely bigger than the glorious bunch bestowed
By Santa on the Fairylings who danced with him that night!
In truth it was a wondrous sight to see the crowd of plates,
Each standing ready in the air before a little guest;
And wonderful it was to hear the voices of the dates,
Each asking to be eaten first, as if it were the best!
No merrymaker present when this wonder-working chanced
(The month it was December, and the day the twenty-third)
Will ever tire of telling how the clock and 'cellos danced,
Or how the cakestand flew about as lightly as a bird!
Each standing ready in the air before a little guest;
And wonderful it was to hear the voices of the dates,
Each asking to be eaten first, as if it were the best!
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(The month it was December, and the day the twenty-third)
Will ever tire of telling how the clock and 'cellos danced,
Or how the cakestand flew about as lightly as a bird!
| A merry-go-round of song | |