December snow! The great world dead in gloom But yet how fair, my God, in that small room! The hearth replete with gleaming coals aglow That on the ceiling drowsy shadows throw!... And one hears but the thickened drip of rain. Upon His shelf, above the counterpane, Beneath His globe of glass, His crowned head, The world held in one hand, the other spread To shield the little ones who trust His might, All lovely in His robe that glimmers bright And warm beneath His hat of yellow tone, Prague's Infant Jesus reigns upon His throne. Alone before the hearth which lightens Him As flames upon a tabernacle gleam, He guards His little brothers till the day. Unseen as breath that breathes itself away, A holy Presence in the chamber clings Alike to innocent and simple things. Where He attends not any ill comes near; One sleeps! Jesus, our brother, He is here. He is for us of all good things the source: The wondrous china doll, the wooden horse, The sheep ... all three are in the corner there We dream and ours are all things good and fair! The shades are drawn ... below, one knows not where, Through snow and dark one hears a cloister bell: The child in his warm bed with joy knows well That One who loves him much defends from harm; He stirs a little, sighs, throws out an arm, Tries to awake and cannot break the charm. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN EPITAPH UPON HUSBAND AND WIFE WHO DIED AND WERE BURIED by RICHARD CRASHAW UNDER THE WATERFALL by THOMAS HARDY UPON BEN JONSON [JOHNSON] by ROBERT HERRICK AN EPIGRAM ON WOMAN by PHILIP AYRES TO MRS -- RETURNING FINE HYACINTH PLANT AFTER BLOOM IS OVER by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD VERSES, SUGGESTED BY THE FUNERAL OF AN EPITAPH IN BURY CHURCH-YARD by BERNARD BARTON WHAT'S IN A NAME by BERTON BRALEY THE UNWILLING MUSE by GUY WETMORE CARRYL BLANK MISGIVINGS OF A CREATURE MOVING ABOUT IN WORLDS NOT REALIZED: 6 by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH |