Christmas Morn
I
Up, Christian! hark, the crowing cock
Proclaims the break of day!
Up! light the lamp, undo the lock,
And take the well-known way —
Already through the painted glass
Streams forth the light of early mass.
II
Our Altar! oh, how fair it shows,
Unto the night-dimm’d eyes —
Oh, surely yonder wreath that glows
Was plucked in paradise!
Without — it snows, the wind is loud,
Earth sleeps wrapped in her yearly shroud.
III
Within — the organ’s soaring peal,
The choir’s sweet chant, the bells,
The surging crowd who stand or kneel,
The glorious errand tells;
Rejoice! rejoice! ye sons of men,
IV
’Tis but a step, a threshold cros’d,
Yet such the change we find —
Without the wandering worldling tost
By every gust of wind —
Within there reigns a holy calm,
For here abides the dread I AM.
~~
Thomas D'Arcy McGee
from Canadian Ballads, and occasional verses, 1858
[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]
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