Classic Poem

Grandma , I have hung up the curtains,
And tacked the new carpet down,
Made fruit cake white as a snow-drift,
Sweet crullers and crumpets brown —
Enough, at least, for the Christmas feast.
When the dear ones come from town.

There's golden cream in the pantry,
And a score of tarts and pies,
And every limb of the Christmas tree
Is hung with a tempting prize:
I can almost see the joy and glee
In the happy children's eyes.

Now, grandma, tell me a story —
A story, weird and wild,
Of the olden days when you were young,
And mother a little child,
With her voice so low and her face aglow,
So angel-sweet and mild.

" Ah, Bettina, I was dreaming
That I heard the North wind blow
Over my native mountains,
Over the fields of snow,
As I heard it once at the Christmas-tide,
Full many a year ago.

" There lived in a little chalet,
At the foot of a mountain sheer,
A hale young man and blithesome wife,
Not older than you, my dear.
Ah, that was a notable Christmas-tide;
That was a notable year.

" Through all the days of November,
Never a shower of snow
Crowned the brow of the lower Alps,
And, down in the vales below,
The grass was as green, in shade and sheen,
As summer grass may grow.

" " Wife, Heinrich said, one morning,
As cheery and bright as May,
" I promised to hunt the chamois
With Conrad and Carl to-day.
Take precious care of the baby dear,
I shall not be long away."

" He belted his blouse around him,
Took his hunting-horn and gun,
And said: " We can go to the Jardin
And back: ere the day is done."
Then bent his head o'er the cradle-bed,
And kissed his little one.

" " Nay, love," his good wife pleaded,
" It is late to hunt, you know,
And all night long I was dreaming
A dream that betokened woe.
Put up your gun and hunting-horn,
And say you will not go."

" " Not go? The boys are waiting,
And, for shame, I could not say:
My wife has dreamed of trouble,
And I can not go to-day.
Now, give me, dear, a good-luck cheer;
I shall not be long away.

" " Take care of my little Minnie.
Adieu," and he was gone.
The light from her blue eyes faded,
And her face grew gray and wan;
She knew full well why the shadow fell,
Ere the weary day was gone.

" She waited and watched the mountains,
Waited and watched the sun,
And when the clock, on the mantelpiece
Rung out the hour of one,
The sky and the air were as bright and fair
As when the day begun.

" " Oh, why," she sighed, " am I troubled?
Whence cometh this nameless fear?
Is it a token of sorrow —
A warning of danger near?
Nay; all is bright, and with sunset light
My Heinrich will be here."

" And then she sung to the baby
That prattled upon her knee;
A quaint, old song, of a sailor
That sailed away to sea;
Sailed far away from his love one day,
And never back came he.

" But before the song was ended,
The wind went shrieking by;
A shadow fell on the hearthstone,
Fell over the mountains high,
And a cloud went forth from the dreary North
And swept the light from the sky.

" " The storm!" she cried, " O heaven!
Ah, this is my dream of woe.
It is dark on the brow of the Flegere,
Dark in the vale below.
O God! provide, protect and guide
My Heinrich to-night in the snow."

" Wilder the wind went wailing,
Deeper the snowdrifts fell,
Heaping the heights and hollows,
Leveling dike and dell;
When the day was done, or the night begun,
No human soul could tell.

" And when the cold, gray morning
Looked down on the dreary scene,
You could scarcely see a landmark,
Or tell where one had been,
For trackless snow was above and below,
And trackless snow between.

" But what of the brave young hunters,
Who merrily went their way,
By the Mauvais-Pas to the Jardin,
That sunny yesterday?
There was warmth and light in their homes that night,
But the hunters — where were they?

" A wail was heard in the village —
A piteous wail, and then
The hardy sons of the mountains
Went forth from hill and glen,
With their hunting horns and alpenstocks,
To seek the missing men.

" Up and away by the Boissons,
Over the Mere de Glace.
Down in the dismal gorges,
Wherever a man might pass,
You could hear the beat of their mail-clad feet —
But they found them not, alas!

" All through the night and the darkness,
With many a torch aflame,
They wound their horns and shouted,
But only the echoes came
From hollow and hill and frozen rill,
Repeating an empty name.

" At length they returned to the village
With slow, uncertain tread,
And the bravest man among them,
In trembling accents said:
" We have done our best. God give them rest —
For surely our friends are dead!"


" The days keep coming and going,
However we joy or grieve,
And sometimes what they take away
Is less than what they leave;
So twice seven days went on their ways,
And brought the Christmas eve.

" And Gretchen, alone in her cottage,
Was sorrowing, sad and sore,
For the dear one under the snowdrift,
For the step that came no more.
" Alas, she sighed, " no Christmas-tide
Was ever so sad before!"

" Just then she heard in the roadway
The fall of a well-known tread,
And a voice, that failed and faltered,
Out of the darkness said:
" Gretchen! Gretchen! Gretchen!"
Was it the voice of the dead?

" Nay, nay; when the house-door opened,
She uttered a joyful cry,
For Heinrich, pallid and ghostly,
Whispered, " Dear wife, it is I.
In the land of death, God gave me breath;
In the grave I did not die."

" She drew him in from the darkness,
To the hearthstone warm and bright;
She chafed his cold, blue fingers,
Kissed his brow and lips so white;
And the happiest three in Chamouni
Were in Heinrich's home that night.


" He said: " I had killed a chamois,
And was on my homeward way,
When the swift, black wing of the tempest
Obscured the light of day:
I thought of my life, of child and wife,
And, dying, tried to pray.

" " I was swept down, down from the glacier —
How far I can never know;
I found myself in a cavern
Bounded and barred with snow,
And heard the roar, as the storm went o'er,
Like thunder above and below.

" " Stunned, dizzy and all bewildered,
As one might wake from the dead,
I felt the smart and the throbbing
Of many a wound that bled.
The snow and the air had a lurid glare,
And the rocks seemed burning red.

" " And then, I lapsed into slumber
That soothed away my pain,
And woke with a sense of hunger
That did not come in vain,
For by my side, securely tied,
Was the chamois I had slain.

" " And this was food for the hunter —
A precious, priceless store.
I slaked my thirst from the snowdrift,
And needed but little more,
Until, at length, God gave me strength
To open my prison door."

" Bettina, shall I tell you
Who these happy people were?
In all their joys and sorrows,
Thy grandma had a share,
And, darling, that is Heinrich,
Asleep in his easy chair. "