Now praise to God that ere his grace Was scorned and he reviled He looked into his mother's face, A little helpless child. And praise to God that ere men strove Above his tomb in war One loved him with a mother's love, Nor knew a creed therefor. JOHN CHARLES MCNEILL (_A Christmas Hymn_) December Twenty-Seventh Hear the sledges with the bells-- Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars, that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells-- From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. EDGAR ALLAN POE December Twenty-Eighth In the future some historian shall come forth both strong and wise, With a love of the Republic, and the truth, before his eyes. He will show the subtle causes of the war between the States, He will go back in his studies far beyond our modern dates, He will trace our hostile ideas as the miner does the lodes, He will show the different habits born of different social codes, He will show the Union riven, and the picture will deplore, He will show it re-united and made stronger than before. JAMES BARRON HOPE December Twenty-Ninth Slow and patient, fair and truthful must the coming teacher be To show how the knife was sharpened that was ground to prune the tree. He will hold the Scales of Justice, he will measure praise and blame, And the South will stand the verdict, and will stand it without shame. JAMES BARRON HOPE _Texas admitted to the Union, 1845_ December Thirtieth I changed my name when I got free To "Mister" like the res', But now dat I am going Home, I likes de ol' name bes'. Sweet voices callin' "Uncle Rome" Seem ringin' in my ears; An' swearin' sorter sociable,-- Ol' Master's voice I hears. * * * * He's passed Heaven's River now, an' soon He'll call across its foam: "You, Rome, you damn ol' nigger, Loose your boat an' come on Home!" HOWARD WEEDEN December Thirty-First