A Little Child's Monument/Christmas Eve
Shimmer of laughter,
Glimmer of play,
Flown in a wafture,
Blown in a spray,
From blithe floor and rafter
Over the way!
I know it is feast-day, a
Mirth-day for all;
Oh, to the least may a
Birthday befall;
And the high priest play
There in the hall!
Play with his treasures;
He is a child,
Swaying their pleasures,
Being so mild;
The Holy One measures
Mirth for a child.
Weep we less wildly!
Sleeping is well;
The Lord hath laid on him
A wonderful spell.
Flower-band childly,
Call away fear!
Our hand mildly
Tender you cheer!
How I muse of him
Gambolling so,
With all these who love him
A brief while ago,
Heaven's joy above him,
Our joy below!
Ah! may you be merry
While one is lost,
In his dear bosom the
Terrible frost?
Smile we who bury
All we love most?
Or is he hiding
Here in the hall.
And will he come gliding
Swift when we call?
Yea! I have found him,
Nor ever we part,
Love hath unwound him
Deep down in my heart!