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Anonymous translation
HOW birdlike o’er the flakes of snow | |
| Its fairy footsteps flew! | |
| And on its soft and childish brow | |
| How delicate the hue! | |
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| And expectation wings its feet, | 5 |
| And stirs its infant smile; | |
| The merry bells their chime repeat; | |
| The child stands still the while. | |
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| Then clasps in joy its little hand; | |
| Then marks the Christian dome; | 10 |
| The stranger child, in stranger land, | |
| Feels now as if at home. | |
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| It runs along the sparkling ground; | |
| Its face with gladness beams: | |
| It frolics in the blaze around, | 15 |
| Which from each window gleams. | |
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| The shadows dance upon the wall, | |
| Reflected from the trees; | |
| And from the branches, green and tall, | |
| The glittering gifts it sees. | 20 |
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| It views within the lighted hall | |
| The charm of social love;— | |
| O, what a joyous festival! | |
| ’T is sanctioned from above. | |
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| But now the childish heart’s unstrung; | 25 |
| “Where is my taper’s light? | |
| And why no evergreen been hung | |
| With toys for me to-night? | |
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| “In my sweet home there was a band | |
| Of holy love for me; | 30 |
| A mother’s kind and tender hand | |
| Once decked my Christmas-tree. | |
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| “O, some one take me ’neath the blaze | |
| Of those light tapers, do! | |
| And, children, I can feel the plays; | 35 |
| O, let me play with you! | |
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| “I care not for the prettiest toy; | |
| I want the love of home; | |
| O, let me in your playful joy, | |
| Forget I have to roam!” | 40 |
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| The little fragile hand is raised, | |
| It strikes at every gate; | |
| In every window earnest gazed, | |
| Then mid the snow it sate. | |
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| “Christinkle! thou, the children’s friend, | 45 |
| I ’ve none to love me now! | |
| Hast thou forgot my tree to send, | |
| With lights on every bough?” | |
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| The baby’s hands are numbed with frost, | |
| Yet press the little cloak; | 50 |
| Then on its breast in meekness crossed, | |
| A sigh the silence broke. | |
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| And closer still the cloak it drew | |
| Around its silken hair; | |
| Its pretty eyes, so clear and blue, | 55 |
| Alone defied the air. | |
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| Then came another pilgrim-child,— | |
| A shining light he held; | |
| The accents fell so sweet and mild, | |
| All music they excelled. | 60 |
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| “I am thy Christmas friend, indeed, | |
| And once a child like thee; | |
| When all forget, thou need’st not plead,— | |
| I will adorn thy tree. | |
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| “My joys are felt in street or bower, | 65 |
| My aid is everywhere; | |
| Thy Christmas-tree, my precious flower, | |
| Here, in the open air, | |
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| “Shall far outshine those other trees | |
| Which caught thy infant eye.” | 70 |
| The stranger child looks up, and sees, | |
| Far, in the deep blue sky, | |
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| A glorious tree, and stars among | |
| The branches hang their light; | |
| The child, with soul all music, sung, | 75 |
| “My tree indeed is bright!” | |
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| As ’neath the power of a dream | |
| The infant closed its eyes, | |
| And troops of radiant angels seem | |
| Descending from the skies, | 80 |
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| The baby to its Christ they bear; | |
| With Jesus it shall live; | |
| It finds a home and treasure there | |
| Sweeter than earth can give. | |
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