Christmas Island.

Dominion, Volume 6, Issue 1629, 21 December 1912, Page 13

Christmas Island.

Fringed with coral, floored with lava, Three-score leagues to south of Java, So is Christmas Island charted By geographers blind-hearted— Just-a dot, by their dull notion., On the burning Indian Ocean; Merely a refreshment station For tne b ; rds in.long migration; Its pomegranates, cnstara-amles That the dancing sunshine dapples, Coconuts with milky hollows, Only feast wing-weary swallows. Or the tropic fowl there dwelling. Don't believe a word they're telling! Christmas Island, though it seem land, Is a floating bit of dreamland Gone adrift from childhood, planted By the winds with seeds enchanted, Seeds of candied plum and cherry; Here the. Christmas Saints make merrf,

Even saints must have vacation; So they chose from all creation, As a change from iceberg castles Hung with euow m loops and tassels, Christmas Island for a summer Residence. 'The earnest comer' Is.our own saint, none diviner, Santa Claus. His ocean-liner Is a sleigh that's scudding fast. Mistletoe climbs up the mast, And the sail, so full of caper, Is of tissuo wrapping-paper. As he steeTs.he hums a carol; But instead of fur apparel Smudged with soot, he s spick and span-'.y In white linen, dear old dandy, With a Borehlis sash on , And a palm-leaf hat in fashion Wreathed about with holly berry. Welcome, Santa! Rest you merry!

Next, his chubby legs bestriding Such a Yuie-iog, who comes-riding . Overseas, the feast to dish up, But—aJia 1-Jthe boys' own bishop, C-iuod St. Nicholas! And listen! Out of Denmark old Ju'.e-nissen, Kindly goblin, bent; rheumatic, In. the milk-bowl. set . up attic For his Christmas cheer, comes tabbing Throueh the waves. He'll be hobnobbing AYit.h Ivnecht Clobes, Dutchman true, Sailing, in a wooden shoe. When the sunset gold' enamels All the sea. three cloudy camels . Bear the Kings with stately paces, Taking islands.for oases, _ . While a star-boat brings Kriss Kringie. Singing "Noel" as they mingle, Drinking toasts in- sunshine sherry, How the Christmas Saints make merrv!

AVhile a gray contralto _ pigeon Cooes that loving is religion, ; . How they laugh and how thev rollick, How they fill the isle with' frolic! Up the; Christmas trees they clamber, Ligliting.-candles rose and. amber, Till tho sudden moonbeams glisten. Then all kneel-but old Jule-nissen, Who, a-heathen elf, stiff-jointed, - Doffs his n : ghtcap red and' pointed; For within the moon's pure luster They, behold bright figures cluster; Their, adoring eyes look, on d Silver-throned te.rone Madonna, With the Christ-Child, rosy sweeting, Smiling to the'r loyal greeting. Would that on this Holy Night _ We might share such blissful sightWe might find a fairy ferry To that isle where saints make merry! —Katlierine Ice Bates.