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The First Christmas in New England · Ririro.com - Poetry

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  Speaker 1: The first Christmas in New England. They thought they had
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  Speaker 1: come to their port that day, but not yet was
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  Speaker 1: their journey done, And they drifted away from Provincetown Bay
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  Speaker 1: in the fireless light of the sun. With rain and sleet.
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  Speaker 1: Were the tall masts iced and gloomy, and chill was
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  Speaker 1: the air. But they looked from the crystal sails to
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  Speaker 1: christ and they came to a harbor fair. The White
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  Speaker 1: Hills silent lay, for there were no ancient bells to ring,
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  Speaker 1: balloons to chant, no choirs to sing, no chapel of baron,
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  Speaker 1: or lord or king. Clinging that gray, cold winter day,
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  Speaker 1: the snow came down on the vacant seas, and white
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  Speaker 1: on the lone rocks lay but rang the axe among
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  Speaker 1: the evergreen trees, and followed the Sabbath day. Then rose
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  Speaker 1: the sun in a crimson haze, and the workmen set
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  Speaker 1: at dawn. Shall our axes swing on this day of
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  Speaker 1: days when the Lord of life was born? The White
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  Speaker 1: Hills silent lay, for there were no ancient bells to ring,
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  Speaker 1: no priests to chant, no choirs to sing, no chapel
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  Speaker 1: of baron or lord or king. That gray cold Christmas day,
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  Speaker 1: the old town's bells we seem to hear compelled, are
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  Speaker 1: ringing sweet on the d They are ringing sweet on
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  Speaker 1: the harlem mirror, and sweet on the zider ze. The
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  Speaker 1: pines are frosted with snow and sleet. Shall we our
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  Speaker 1: axes weeeled when the chimes at Lincoln are ringing sweet,
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  Speaker 1: and the bells of austerfield. The air was cold and gray,
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  Speaker 1: and there were no ancient bells to ring, unpredict to chant,
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  Speaker 1: no choirs to sing, no chapel of baron or lord
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  Speaker 1: or king. Blankets that gray cold Christmas day. Then the
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  Speaker 1: Master said, your axes wield, remember ye Malabar Bay and
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  Speaker 1: the covenant there with the yard ye sealed. Let your
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  Speaker 1: axes ring tis bells tonight, when your work for the
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  Speaker 1: Lord is done, and your boats return, and the shallop's
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  Speaker 1: light shall follow the light of the sun. The sky
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  Speaker 1: is cold and gray, and here are no ancient bells
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  Speaker 1: to ring, no priests to chant, no choirs to sing,
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  Speaker 1: no chapel of baron or lord or king, this gray
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  Speaker 1: cold Christmas day. If Christ was born on Christmas Day
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  Speaker 1: blinked and the day by him is blessed, then losing feet,
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  Speaker 1: the evergreens lay and cradle his church in the west.
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  Speaker 1: Immanuel waits at the temple gates, flushing of the nation.
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  Speaker 1: Today ye found, and the Lord delights in no formal rights. Today,
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  Speaker 1: let your axes sound. The sky was cold and gray,
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  Speaker 1: and there were no ancient bells to ring, friendships to chant,
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  Speaker 1: no choirs to sing, bounced, no chapel of baron or
• 3:37
  Speaker 1: lord or king, that gray, cold Christmas day. Their axes
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  Speaker 1: rang through the evergreen trees, lick the bells on the
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  Speaker 1: Thames and Tay seas, and they cheerily sang by the
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  Speaker 1: windy sea, on the lonely heights of Burial Hill. The
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  Speaker 1: old precisioners sleep. But did ever men with a nobler will,
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  Speaker 1: a holier Christmas keep when the sky was cold and gray,
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  Speaker 1: and there were no ancient bells to ring, bachelor to chant,
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  Speaker 1: no choirs to sing, no chapel of baron or lord
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  Speaker 1: or king, that gray, cold Christmas day.