 | Valete |  |
32
Christmas without the Laureate.
1892.
The organ peals, the white-robed chorus tells,
That tale the shepherds heard their flocks among,
When open wide the gates of Heaven were flung,
Where Bethlehem's village from her plain upswells.
Yet ah! one voice has failed! Our old church bells
Give back an echo of the songs he sung,
But sadness sounds in every silver tongue
That sends this Christmas message up the Fells.
That tale the shepherds heard their flocks among,
When open wide the gates of Heaven were flung,
Where Bethlehem's village from her plain upswells.
Yet ah! one voice has failed! Our old church bells
Give back an echo of the songs he sung,
But sadness sounds in every silver tongue
That sends this Christmas message up the Fells.
For he who knew indeed the Word was God,
Who felt the Faith that sought the Holy Grail,
Who set a lamp of Duty in the mist,
Who smote the beast in man with iron rod,
And sang two generations back to Christ,
Sings now more sweetly—but behind the veil.
Who felt the Faith that sought the Holy Grail,
Who set a lamp of Duty in the mist,
Who smote the beast in man with iron rod,
And sang two generations back to Christ,
Sings now more sweetly—but behind the veil.
| Valete | |