Bohemian legends and other poems/Christmas
CHRISTMAS.
In the holy Christmas season
Shines the moonlight bright and clear,
In the graveyard, on the crosses,
In the warden’s window near;
And the moonlight roused his slumber—
From his bed he rose in haste,
Thinking it must be now morning
And he had no time to waste.
Bright the snow is lying round him,
As he goes to ring the bell.
When he hears the church clock striking
Twelve o’clock, he counts it well.
Home again he would have turned him,
Lain him down in peace again,
When by chance he sees the window,
Where light streams from out the pane.
Lost in wonder he went onward
To the church, and entered in.
Candles by the altar burning
Light the church’s outline dim.
There he sees upon the benches,
Men and women scattered round,
People that he knows are kneeling,
Praying there without a sound.
Then he spoke, and said “Good-morning,”
First to this one, then to that.
Not an answer did they give him,
No one noticed where he sat
Then a chill of horror shook him—
And his hair it stood on ends.
With his thoughts in wild confusion
From the church his steps he bends.
To the priest he goes, and wildly
Tells him of the wondrous tale.
Though astonished the priest calmly
Speaks of God who cannot fail.
“See this wild fear we must conquer.”
Holy water now he takes,
Sprinkles it upon them saying,
“God will save us for His sake.”
To the church he bends his footsteps,
With his own eyes now to see,
While the warden half-dead follows,
That strange sight once more to see.
And there truly, he can see them,
People that he knows full well,
At the altar they are gazing,
They are praying, one can tell.
Not one turns to look about him,
They are praying with a will.
As the clock strikes one, the shadows
Pass away in silence chill.
Here it changes, there it changes,
And the lights fade one by one;
Then the scene grows dim and faded,
Like a dream that now is done.
Little time had passed, and several
Went from out this world away;
Then another one was bidden
All his farewells quick to say;
And before the year was finished
Every one that they had seen
Had been called by God Almighty,
To a brighter, happier scene.
Then they both knew what the meaning
Of this strange scene did imply,
And upon each Christmas midnight
To the church they went to spy,
Who of all their living neighbors
To the grave was drawing near,
For not one that they saw praying
Would outlive the coming year.
And one year they looked with horror—
Thought it was the Judgment day!
For the church was filled with people
Sitting, crowding all the way;
And they could not count the number—
Filled were they with horror great.
But next year the plague came raging,
Many people met their fate.
And as once they went to notice
Who should die the coming year,
With a start of inward terror
Saw the warden, himself near.
He was kneeling by the threshold
And the priest the mass did say
Then they knew, beyond all doubting,
This year they should pass away.
Then they knelt in earnest prayer,
While the priest, his hands upraised,
Saying, “Oh, Almighty Father,
Be Thy name forever praised!
Grant that death may find us worthy
Of that heaven Thou hast won.”
And the warden answered humbly,
“Father, let Thy will be done.”
And they praised the Lord while living,
Lying down, and getting up;
Giving to the poor and needy,
What they had on plate and cup.
Very heedful of their footsteps,
Not to miss the narrow way,
And before the year was finished
Both in God had passed away.