Poems (Curwen)/Yuletide Bells

by Annie Isabel Curwen

Yuletide Bells.

The stars still shine in their pristine glory,
 And the moon with her silvery light,
As they shone when the old world heard the story
 From the shepherds that wondrous night;
When the angel hosts to Bethlehem came,
And mankind heard the Saviour's name.

The old sad world loves the story still,
 And its great heart throbs and swells,
For it loves the messages of goodwill
 Ringing out from the Yuletide bells:
The old sweet message the bells have borne
To man on many a Christmas morn.

The bells of Yule with their varying chimes
 Fall sweet on the world's tired ears—
Worn with the noisy hum of the times,
 And the strife of the hurrying years;
And the welcome voices of "Peace and Goodwill,"
As years roll on, sound sweeter still.

The mariner hears the bells at sea,
 Borne on the wings of the wond'ring wind,
And thinks of home where he fain would be,
 And the dear ones he has left behind;
And his eyes grow dim, his bosom swells,
As he catches the echo of the Yuletide bells.

Wanderers hear them in other lands,
 And wistfully gaze across the foam,
And yearn for the clasp of familiar hands
 And the Yuletide joys of dear home;
For the bells of Yule wherever they ring
Sweetest and holiest of memories bring.

O, bells of Yule, sweet bells of Yule!
 Would ye could ring out care and pain;
Could ring out every wrongful rule;
 Could ring in Peace's gentle reign:
Then might we all join hands and sing,
Lo, Christ is born! He is the King!