 | A Sonnet Chronicle |  |
8
The Choir Invisible
Christmas Day, 1900.
All down the valley Crosthwaite bells are ringing
And Skiddaw sends us back the joyous tone,
How can our hearts not think of those who gone
Return not home to join our Christmas singing?—
Brave boys whose blood so full of hope was springing,
Strong men, so sure when duty must be done,
In silent graves in alien earth alone
Their bodies lie, where bells no news are bringing.
And Skiddaw sends us back the joyous tone,
How can our hearts not think of those who gone
Return not home to join our Christmas singing?—
Brave boys whose blood so full of hope was springing,
Strong men, so sure when duty must be done,
In silent graves in alien earth alone
Their bodies lie, where bells no news are bringing.
But though no shepherds watch on yonder veldt,—
Void now of sheep and void of men who till,
To-day our hero sons aroused from sleep
Come singing to our side. Their souls have felt
What meant those angels over Bethlehem's steep,
Who sang “God's peace to men of Godlike will.”
Void now of sheep and void of men who till,
To-day our hero sons aroused from sleep
Come singing to our side. Their souls have felt
What meant those angels over Bethlehem's steep,
Who sang “God's peace to men of Godlike will.”
| A Sonnet Chronicle | |