Saturday, December 23, 2017

'Tis the eve of Christmas Eve

It's Minnesota cold. The sun is shining. Last night we celebrated the Son-In-Law's graduation from college. It's Christmas time. All is calm, all is bright! Right? Not quite! From yesterday's Star Tribune:

Fortunately, before I could get bent too far out of shape, I came across Maria Popova's piece, A Reflection on Living Through Turbulent Times. Give yourself an early Christmas present, follow the link and read it. A shift in perspective from 4+/- billion miles doesn't make our issues less important. It does give them an aura of solvability, I think. If that doesn't do it for you, read, twice or more, the ending two stanzas of today's poem.

Christmas, 2017
Christmas, 2017
Photo by J. Harrington

Christmas Bells

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play, 
    And wild and sweet 
    The words repeat 
Of peace on earth, good-will to men! 

And thought how, as the day had come, 
The belfries of all Christendom 
    Had rolled along 
    The unbroken song 
Of peace on earth, good-will to men! 

Till ringing, singing on its way, 
The world revolved from night to day, 
    A voice, a chime, 
    A chant sublime 
Of peace on earth, good-will to men! 

Then from each black, accursed mouth 
The cannon thundered in the South, 
    And with the sound 
    The carols drowned 
Of peace on earth, good-will to men! 

It was as if an earthquake rent 
The hearth-stones of a continent, 
    And made forlorn 
    The households born 
Of peace on earth, good-will to men! 

And in despair I bowed my head; 
“There is no peace on earth," I said; 
    “For hate is strong, 
    And mocks the song 
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!” 

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: 
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; 
    The Wrong shall fail, 
    The Right prevail, 
With peace on earth, good-will to men.”


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