At last surrounds their sight A globe of circular light That with long beams the shamefaced night arrayed; The helmed Cherubim And sworded Seraphim Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displayed, Harping in loud and solemn choir With unexpressive notes, to Heaven’s new-born Heir:
Such music (as tis said) Before was never made But when of old the sons of morning sung, While the Creator great His constellations set And the well-balanced world on hinges hung; And cast the dark foundations deep, And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel keep.
Ring out, ye crystal spheres! Once bless our human ears, If ye have power to touch our senses so; And let your silver chime Move in melodious time; And let the bass of Heaven’s deep organ blow; And with your ninefold harmony Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.
We cannot all be famous or be listed in ‘Who’s Who,’ But every person great or small has important work to do, For seldom do we realize the importance of small deeds Or to what degree of greatness unnoticed kindness leads —
For it’s not the big celebrity in a world of fame and praise, But it’s doing unpretentiously in undistinguished ways The work that God assigned to us, unimportant as it seems, That makes our task outstanding and brings reality to dreams —
So do not sit and idly wish for wider, new dimensions Where you can put in practice your many ‘Good Intentions’ —
But at the spot God placed you begin at once to do Little things to brighten up the lives surrounding you…. For if everybody brightened up the spot on which they’re standing By being more considerate and a little less demanding, This dark old world would very soon eclipse the ‘Evening Star’ If everybody Brightened Up the Corner Where They Are!
As the snow falls gently against my window, I give thanks, O divine Spirit, for the cycle of the seasons and the ever-changing beauty of the universe….
A mantle of purity is spread over this drab earth, and the evergreens bow humbly in their vestments of white. The noises of men cease; a new stillness envelopes the world, and Thy voice speaks to me through the elements….
As I look upon this beauty, I think of Thee as the source from which it all comes. Give me faith to believe that the order which sustains the ever-varying pageantry of nature will also uphold me….
“The carol ‘The Holly and the Ivy,’ the words of which started to appear in the early 1800s, solidifies the Christian connotations of these plants, with the holly representing Christ’s crown of thorns and the ivy representing the Virgin Mary. But in medieval Europe, holly and ivy, along with other evergreens (often rosemary), were seen as especially sacred, or at least they were signs of good luck long before the famous carol came along.
“As vegetation that was boldly flourishing in the cold, dark time of the year, when so much else was stark and dormant, this kind of foliage, when brought into the home, offered hope to the winter weary in the Northern Hemisphere. It reminded people that if nature could push through the harsh times and thrive again, so could they. In another echo back to Roman times, when wreaths were used as signs of victory and status, the plants would often be fashioned into circles by medieval families, decorated, and hung on doors or laid on tables.”
“[The] mists began to rise in the most beautiful manner, and the sun to shine; and as I went on through the bracing air, seeing the hoar-frost sparkle everywhere, I felt as if all Nature shared in the joy of the great Birthday….”
Christmas is a butterfly unfolding From winter’s chrysalis. Out of the black And white December harshness flash colors, Soft fragilities of wings. Icy streets Shine red and green and gold. Scarlet and pink Poinsettias glow by hearths. Angels abound. Christmas is a butterfly unfolding From the cold human heart. Out of the bleak Preoccupation with our private woes And wants, out of the tedium of routines, There springs the wish to give and to forgive. Love once again believes and hopes all things. That Christmas comes each year is proof enough: Miracles of birth and rebirth still occur.
From “The Christmas Life” by Wendy Cope in Christmas Poems, chosen by Gaby Morgan:
Bring in a tree, a young Norwegian spruce, Bring hyacinths that rooted in the cold. Bring winter jasmine as its buds unfold — Bring the Christmas life into this house.
Bring red and green and gold, bring things that shine, Bring candlesticks and music, food and wine. Bring in your memories of Christmas past. Bring in your tears for all that you have lost.
Bring in the shepherd boy, the ox and ass, Bring in the stillness of an icy night, Bring in a birth, of hope and love and light. Bring the Christmas life into this house.
“Peter had spent all afternoon searching and searching for the perfect present for his mum and dad. Something that would stop them quarrelling for just five minutes. Something that would make Christmas the way it used to be, with smiles and songs and happiness in every corner of the house….
“But all the searching had been for nothing. Peter didn’t have that much money to begin with and all the things he could afford, he didn’t want. All the gifts he could afford looked so cheap and tacky that Peter knew they would fall apart about ten seconds after they were handled. What was he going to do? He had to buy something and time was running out….
“Then he caught sight of it out of the corner of his eye. The medium-sized sign above the door said ‘The Christmas Shop’ in spidery writing. The small shop window was framed with silver and gold tinsel and a scattering of glitter like mini stars. At the bottom of the window, fake snow had been sprayed. It looked so much like the real thing that had it been outside the window instead of inside, Peter would’ve been sure it was real snow. A single Christmas tree laden with fairy lights and baubles and yet more tinsel stood proudly in the exact centre of the window….
“He wondered why he’d never seen it before…. Peter looked up and down the street. The few other shops in the same row as the Christmas Shop were all boarded up. Unexpectedly, the shop door opened. A tall portly man with a white beard and a merry twinkle in his eyes stood in the doorway….”
Star over all Eye of the night Stand on my tree Magical sight Green under frost Green under snow Green under tinsel Glitter and glow Appled with baubles Silver and gold Spangled with fire Warm over cold.
