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ORIGINAL POETRY.

LAY FOR CHRISTMAS. We cannot bring stems of the holly tree, Nor the bright laurel bough, The sights, and the sounds we were wont to see, Glad not our Christmas now. But we can bring blossoms of rainbow hues From gorgeous forest trees, And lovely the light of our Christmas sun On leagues of coral seas. A thousand flowers does the od'rous breath Float on the fresh, free air, And the moon-lit beauty of our still nights Let none with aught compare. It was such a night in that cloudless clime Long centuries ago, When the Persian Magi found their Lord Laid in his cradle low. That same golden moon smiled on Bethlehem, As bright she smileth now, And far away 'neath that Eastern heaven We see the wise men bow. We see white Cherubaic wings enfold An infant's powerless form, And vile mortal fetters in durance hold The Prince of Calm and Storm. And we turn away from that vision fair In humbler, wiser mood, And we feel it is not what man calls great That God pronounces good. We wake up to thank Him for what we have, And not to desire more, To hope for the future with faithful hearts— Not grieve for what is o'er. Then, Hail to the Christmas that comes as it should Merrily 'mid the flowers, And a thought, and a sigh to our absent friends, And summer days like ours.

Auckland, Dec. 23rd, 1851.

St. George.

Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZ18511227.2.11

Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka

New Zealander, Volume 7, Issue 595, 27 December 1851, Page 3

Word count
Tapeke kupu
246

ORIGINAL POETRY. New Zealander, Volume 7, Issue 595, 27 December 1851, Page 3

ORIGINAL POETRY. New Zealander, Volume 7, Issue 595, 27 December 1851, Page 3

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