The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1871-12-24
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VOLUME ~.
m,rnlng Star and Catholic Messenger.
INV oRLEANs, sUNDAY, DEcEHBER a. 1871.
A CHRISTMAS CAROL.

1BW ORLEANS, SUNDAY, D8CEABER a. 1871
A CHRISTMAS CAROL.
BY FATHER RYAN.
That With musical miltS shsi ring;
WIN ID care Tor sor IL. he w ~ siasi '
For their voices and Hearts arc glad;
And Ssy and md ny ny l ssles i I:
But The Spring hath dsd. and Tho golden charm
Hath gone from the songs siDg
Der the sou i Of tie old ana di youns a
And never again-how II makes mo grieve-
Shall sing a. once sung.
Why ask song, al! perohapce You believe.
That the song you Ii hear this ckristmas Eve,
La the old mans best and last.
Do you y ant tho jingle Of rythm and rhymel
or grand Cathedral, floats
Out Of each word: and along each line.
Lifting it up. and making it pine,
For something far from Here
Bearing the wings Of the soul alofe
so,; F.o@ "a, Earth and its shadows dim;
As dream or Q sersphs hymn
Evoking the .elemness hopes and fears
n;-, ErGm S 9,s SsinE: .i higher part.
That Cow from spellboun heart.
with no myssicd meanings rifei
Or %s;s that sss s9 iI moves along
Nor the Poet. rhymes nor rules
A melody moves through my aged heart
Not learned from books or schools:
Y e.
cannot tell where or how
But no matter where: II still sounds on
And down in my heart hear 1t still,
Like the echoes Of farof bells;
Like the dreamy sound Of . Summer riH
Flowing through fairy dells.
shall s5 ,ss tho SG1s
The xorld they ten me- is so giddy grown,
And thouRhtless minds and shallow hearts alone
Hold empire there;
That foois have prestige place. and power, and fame
That wisdom is . scorn. Kissing shame,
They tell me; too, that all is venal, vain.
That Truth and Honor are the slaves of Gain:
Can it be soi
Tha: lofty Principle hath long been dead
That Virtue walks ashamed, with downcast head,
Amid the crowd.
They tell me. too. that few they are who own
Gods Law and Love;
Look not above
That daily. hourly. from bad to worse,
Blaspheming God. and careless Of the curse
Oh His dread wrath.
And must sing for slaves of sordid gain,
Shall ! not dedicate this Christmas strain
Who still are true2
OF the Tyre that was mute so long;
# sing at al,the gray bard sings
And ali! there is many chsngeful mood
That over my spirit steals;
Beneath their SPELL and in verses rude,
Whatever he dreams or feels;
Whatever the fancies this Christmas Eve
Whether they gladden. or whether they grieve,
He'll sing them as best he can.
Though some of the strings of his Tyre are broke
who knows how its M lody may wake -
A Christmas smile and tear.
So on with the mystic song,
With its meaning manifold
Two tones in every word,
In the measured words that move along
Ono meaning shall be heard,
Blu. Ono 1nss snG IL ss to n ms be ss ted
And under It ali, to ali unknown
Deep meanings shall be hid =
Find them out who can
The Thoughts concealed and unrevealed
In thss song Of the lonely man.
I'm sitting alone in my silent room
This long December night,
Watching the dre-fame al1 the gloom
With many picture bright.
Ahi how the FIRE can paint!
His magic shill how strange!
How every spark
On the canvas dark
DrlwB figures and forms so quaint
And how tho pictures change! .
One moment how they smile =
And in less than q little while,
In the inkling of an eye
Like the CLEAN Of Summer sky,
The beaming smiles all die.
from gay to grave-froni grave to gay,
Inc races change in the shadows grey.
And just ms wonder who are they,
Over them all
Like n funeral pail.
The FOLDS Of the shadows drop and fail,
And every one
OF the pictures fades away