Page:Our American Holidays - Christmas.djvu/168

 

ANON

Out of the mists of childhood, Steeped in a golden glory, Come dreamy forms and faces, Snatches of song and story; Whispers of sweet, still faces; Rays of ethereal glimmer, That gleam like sunny heavens, Ne'er to grow colder or dimmer: Now far in the distance, now shining near, Lighting the snows of the shivering year.

Faces there are that tremble, Bleared with a silent weeping, Weird in a shadowy sorrow, As if endless vigil keeping. Faces of dazzling brightness, With childlike radiance lighted, Flashing with many a beauty, Nor care nor time had blighted. But o'er them all there 's a glamour thrown, Bright with the dreamy distance alone.

Aglow in the Christmas halo, Shining with heavenly lustre, These are the fairy faces That round the hearthstone cluster. 