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<h2><SPAN name="poem46"></SPAN>CHRISTMAS FANCIES</h2>
<p class="poetry">When Christmas bells are swinging above the
fields of snow,<br/>
We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago,<br/>
And etched on vacant places<br/>
Are half-forgotten faces<br/>
Of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to
know—<br/>
When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow.</p>
<p class="poetry">Uprising from the ocean of the present surging
near,<br/>
We see, with strange emotion, that is not free from fear,<br/>
That continent Elysian<br/>
Long vanished from our vision,<br/>
Youth’s lovely lost Atlantis, so mourned for and so
dear,<br/>
Uprising from the ocean of the present surging near.</p>
<p class="poetry">When gloomy, gray Decembers are roused to Christmas
mirth,<br/>
The dullest life remembers there once was joy on earth,<br/>
And draws from youth’s recesses<br/>
Some memory it possesses,<br/>
And, gazing through the lens of time, exaggerates its worth,<br
/>
When gloomy, gray December is roused to Christmas mirth.</p>
<p class="poetry">When hanging up the holly or mistletoe, I
wis<br/>
Each heart recalls some folly that lit the world with bliss.<br
/>
Not all the seers and sages<br/>
With wisdom of the ages<br/>
Can give the mind such pleasure as memories of that kiss<br/>
When hanging up the holly or mistletoe, I wis.</p>
<p class="poetry">For life was made for loving, and love alone
repays,<br/>
As passing years are proving, for all of Time’s sad
ways.<br/>
There lies a sting in pleasure,<br/>
And fame gives shallow measure,<br/>
And wealth is but a phantom that mocks the restless days,<br/>
For life was made for loving, and only loving pays.</p>
<p class="poetry">When Christmas bells are pelting the air with silver
chimes,<br/>
And silences are melting to soft, melodious rhymes,<br/>
Let Love, the world’s beginning,<br/>
End fear and hate and sinning;<br/>
Let Love, the God Eternal, be worshipped in all climes<br/>
When Christmas bells are pelting the air with silver chimes.</p>
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