Blow, wind, blow, Sing through yard and shroud; Pipe it shrilly and loud, Aloft as well as below; Sing in my sailor's ear The song I sing to you, "Come home, my sailor true, For Christmas that comes so near." Go, wind, go, Hurry his home-bound sail, Through gusts that are edged with hail, Through winter, and sleet, and snow; Song, in my sailor's ear, Your shrilling and moans shall be, For he knows they sing him to me And Christmas that comes so near. * * * * * SERY RICHARD WATSON GILDER With wild surprise Four great eyes In two small heads, From neighboring beds Looked out--and winked-- And glittered and blinked At a very queer sight In the dim starlight. As plain as can be A fairy tree Flashes and glimmers And shakes and shimmers. Red, green and blue Meet their view; Silver and gold Their sharp eyes behold; Small moon, big stars; And jams in jars, And cakes, and honey And thimbles, and money, Pink dogs, blue cats, Little squeaking rats, And candles, and dolls, And crackers, and polls, A real bird that sings, And tokens and favors, And all sorts of things For the little shavers. Four black eyes Grow big with surprise; And then grow bigger When a tiny figure, Jaunty and airy, (Is it a fairy?) From the tree-top cries, "Open wide! Black Eyes! Come, children, wake now! Your joys you may take now!" Quick as you can think Twenty small toes In four pretty rows, Like little piggies pink, All kick in the air-- And before you can wink The tree stands bare! * * * * * A CHRISTMAS SONG TUDOR JENKS When mother-love makes all things bright, When joy comes with the morning light, When children gather round their tree, Thou Christmas Babe, We sing of Thee! When manhood's brows are bent in thought, To learn what men of old have taught, When eager hands seek wisdom's key, Wise Temple Child, We learn of Thee! When doubts assail, and perils fright, When, groping blindly in the night, We strive to read life's mystery, Man of the Mount, We turn to Thee! When shadows of the valley fall, When sin and death the soul appall, One light we through the darkness see-- Christ on the Cross, We cry to Thee! And when the world shall pass away, And dawns at length the perfect day, In glory shall our souls made free, Thou God enthroned, Then worship Thee. * * * * * CHRISTMAS (A Selection from "Dreamthorp") ALEXANDER SMITH