Classic Poem

Dear friends and little children all,
Thrice welcome to our Christmas ball!
For 'tis a ball, and not a tree,
Your eyes can very plainly see.
" A Christmas ball? Strange Christmas cheer! "
Some one exclaims who isn't here,
When first upon his ear shall fall
The news of this our Christmas ball.
" A Christmas ball and in a church!
This leaves my notions in the lurch.
I've heard of balls when princes come
To see Americans at home;
And there is one whene'er the Japs
Come over with their funny traps;
And firemen's balls are always plenty,
And leap-year balls, — I've been to twenty,
More or less, — and cattle-show
Most always ends with one, you know;
But such a thing at Christmas time
Is worse in reason than in rhyme.
" And in a church! I wonder what
John Calvin would have said to that!
I guess he would have made a face
At such a use of such a place.
That " David danced before the Lord"
Doth no good precedent afford,
For that was in the times of old, —
" The good old times," " the age of gold," —
And things that now seem dreadful bad
Were then — the best that could be had. "

E'en so perchance would fume away
Some uninstructed Mr. A.
Entirely in the dark, you see,
Where all is plain to you and me.
If he the facts could all discover,
No doubt he would at once recover,
And say it wasn't bad at all,
This notion of a Christmas ball;
Though all the dancing it implies
Is the dear joy-dance in your eyes.

And what for us shall signify
This little world that from on high
Descends, with gifts and tapers bright,
To meet our wonder and delight?
This little world? Ay, there I find
A meaning suited to my mind,
And that will help explain this rout
Of things all scattered here about,
As if this were the very track
Old Santa travels with his pack,
And he had shed them as he went
And left them here for our content.

You know (the biggest of you do)
'Tis said — and I suppose it's true —
That all the stars that gem the sky,
And every night go trooping by,
Were once, long since, one mighty world
Through space with swiftest motion hurled,
And flinging off from time to time,
Just as a poet does a rhyme,
A star, henceforth to go its way,
Companion of the night and day.
'Tis said the stars this striking merit
From the parental mass inherit:
As soon as they are fairly " out, "
They take to flinging things about;
And all the worlds that people space
Were flung, it seems, into their place.

And so if I could dream a dream,
Which like a solid fact would seem,
'Twould be that from this mimic world
All of these gifts had straight been hurled,
And yet — O marvel to be spoken! —
Not one of all your heads is broken.

O little world, thou hast for me
A word of deeper mystery!
O little world, shine clear and bright
Until I read your meaning right!
Gift-laden, to our hearts rehearse
How God's gift-laden universe
Shines ever fair and ever bright
With love and comfort and delight.

This little pageant, well I know,
Inspired by love did sweetly grow;
And well I know the pageant vast,
All beautiful from first to last,
Of worlds on worlds in phalanx deep,
From suns that blaze to vines that creep,
From planets singing on their way
To flowers that dread the eye of day,
From rivers that rejoicing go
To brooks that murmur sweet and low,
From genius, with its years of fame,
To simple lives devoid of blame, —
Oh, well I know this pageant fair
Is proof of love beyond compare!

O Love, that dost with goodness crown
The years through all the ages down!
'Tis in Thy strength the mountains stand,
The seasons roll at Thy command,
And rooted are all things that bless
Deep in Thy everlastingness.
The pith of all our Christmas cheer
Is that Thy life is ever near;
Within Thy circling arms we lie,
Lapped in Thy great infinity.

All praise and honor to His name,
Who, spite of taunt and cruel shame,
Was brave to teach, as wise to know,
That these great things are surely so.
For this our loving court we pay
At His dear feet on Christmas day;
For this through all the coming years,
In all our joys and hopes and fears,
We still will pay Him reverence due,
And in His witness, brave and true,
Hear echoes clear, through all the din,
Of that deep voice which speaks within.

But while I speak the tapers waste
And little hearts are all in haste
To know what token, simple-sweet,
Is soon their happy eyes to greet.
A merry Christmas, then, to all!
And, when at length our Christmas ball
Shall into darkness fade again,
Long in our hearts may it retain
The beauty that it wears to-day,
To light and cheer us on our way.