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TWO CHRISTMAS GIFTS: Our New Story and Our Holiday Offer
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First Bell.
Away! Away
With sorrows today!
Let rose-lipped Joy
And Song and Mirth
And Love and Laughter
Make glad the earth!
While thanks for blessings
So freely given,
Ascend on the wings
Os Hope to Heaven.
Lift up! Lift up
The gladsome song
To swell the current
Os joy along!—
Be care forgotten;
Bid anger cease;
And welcome again
The Morn of Peace.—
Let pale-cheeked Sadness
Hide her face,
And in every land
By the blue sky spanned
Find not in a, home or a heart a place!
Joy! Joy to all
The world today!
Seize the sweet
Ere it passes away!
Second Bell.
Alas! Alas!
No day so glad
But some hearts must be heavy,
Some souls be sad.
Who dares to question
The goodness of Heaven?
But the burdens of life
Seem unequally given,
While round the brightness
Os blazing fires
Gather laughing children
And smiling sires,
Happy and warm
In the arms of wealth,
Beaming with gladness
, And rosy with health;
Pale wan-faced Want
And Hunger gaunt
Crouch round many a hearth today,
Where Poverty, cruel tyrant, reigns,
And driving the angels of Hope away,
Bind the poor in their icy chains.
On pallet of straw
Age rests the head.
And blue-lipped children
Cry for bread.
Third Bell.
Cease, cease, I pray!
On earth today
All hearts must be
CHRISTMAS HELLS
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From bitterness free.
Today the richest gift from Heaven
To all the world was freely given,
And none must songs of praise deny,
Nor look but with eyes of love on high.
With twinkling feet,
ATLANTA, GA„ DECEMBER 24 1908.
AS RUNG RY
TOM T. Me HEATH
To music sweet
The winding mazes the dancers trip;
From rougish eyes
The swift glance flies
And love —fireflashes from lip to lip.
While the ivy green
The cups entwine,
Filled to the brim
With the ruby wine,
And the fragrance rare of a thousand
flowers
Distills from the fountain’s pearly show
ers.
0 life is Beauty
When hearts are gay,
And earth is Heaven
Today, today!
Fourth Bell.
Tenderly, mournfully, there below,
With measured tread and weary and
slow—
On rugged shoulders bearing
A pine board coffin, wearing
On pallid faces the shadows of woe,
Into the churchyard they go, they go!
The thin lips tremble,
The stricken hearts cry
“To live is to suffer—
“’Tis better to die!”
Back to their hovels the mourners go,
Envying the sleeper under the snow.
Hunger torments him not,
Pain does not rack,
Poverty stings him not —
Call him not back!
0! the world is full of sorrow!
Os hearts that are breaking with sor
row —
“Joy cometh,” they say, “with the
morrow,”
But tomorrow comes —ever tomorrow!
First Bell.
Still, kissed by the sunbeams, the roses
bloom.
Second Bell.
Alas! how often upon the tomb!
Third Bell.
Time blights not Joy with the frost of
years.
Fourth Bell.
Nor stays he the current of Sorrow’s
tears!
Chorus —(Echo).
God com-mingles good and evil
In this changing world of ours;
fiose beside the stoniest pathway
Bloom the richest, rarest flowers.
Joy and sorrow, tears and laughter,
Pain and pleasure, hope and fear,
Mingling still in human bosoms,
Keep them human still, and dear.
Over all a Father watches,
Beams a Father’s smile above—•
Like a white-winged angel, hovers
Over all, a Father’s love!
TWO DOLLARS A YEAR.
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