Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.

Descriptive Poems: III. Places

An Old Time Christmas

Sir Walter Scott (1771–1832)

HEAP on more wood!—the wind is chill;

But, let it whistle as it will,

We ’ll keep our Christmas merry still.

Each age has deemed the new-born year

The fittest time for festal cheer:

Even, heathen yet, the savage Dane

At Iol more deep the mead did drain;

High on the beach his galleys drew,

And feasted all his pirate crew;

Then in his low and pine-built hall,

Where shields and axes decked the wall,

They gorged upon the half-dressed steer;

Caroused in seas of sable beer;

While round, in brutal jest, were thrown

The half-gnawed rib and marrow-bone;

Or listened all, in grim delight,

While scalds yelled out the joys of fight.

Then forth in frenzy would they hie,

While wildly loose their red locks fly;

And, dancing round the blazing pile,

They make such barbarous mirth the while,

As best might to the mind recall

The boisterous joys of Odin’s hall.

And well our Christian sires of old

Loved when the year its course had rolled

And brought blithe Christmas back again

With all his hospitable train.

Domestic and religious rite

Gave honor to the holy night:

On Christmas eve the bells were rung;

On Christmas eve the mass was sung;

That only night, in all the year,

Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear.

The damsel donned her kirtle sheen;

The hall was dressed with holly green;

Forth to the wood did merry-men go,

To gather in the mistletoe.

Then opened wide the baron’s hall

To vassal, tenant, serf, and all;

Power laid his rod of rule aside,

And Ceremony doffed her pride.

The heir, with roses in his shoes,

That night might village partner choose;

The lord, underogating, share

The vulgar game of “post and pair.”

All hailed, with uncontrolled delight,

And general voice, the happy night

That to the cottage, as the crown,

Brought tidings of salvation down.

The fire, with well-dried logs supplied,

Went roaring up the chimney wide;

The huge hall-table’s oaken face,

Scrubbed till it shone, the day to grace,

Bore then upon its massive board

No mark to part the squire and lord.

Then was brought in the lusty brawn,

By old blue-coated serving-man;

Then the grim boar’s-head frowned on high

Crested with bays and rosemary.

Well can the green-garbed ranger tell

How, when, and where, the monster fell;

What dogs before his death he tore,

And all the baiting of the boar.

The wassail round, in good brown bowls,

Garnished with ribbons, blithely trowls,

There the huge sirloin reeked; hard by

Plum-porridge stood, and Christmas pie;

Nor failed old Scotland to produce,

At such high tide, her savory goose.

Then came the merry maskers in,

And carols roared with blithesome din;

If unmelodious was the song,

It was a hearty note, and strong.

Who lists may in their mumming see

Traces of ancient mystery;

White skirts supplied the masquerade,

And smutted cheeks the visors made:

But, O, what masquers richly dight

Can boast of bosoms half so light!

England was merry England, when

Old Christmas brought his sports again.

’T was Christmas broached the mightiest ale;

’T was Christmas told the merriest tale;

A Christmas gambol oft could cheer

The poor man’s heart through half the year.