And the sea-fog, like a ghost, But onward still I sailed. "Four days I steered to eastward, Four days without a night: Round in a fiery ring Went the great sun, O King, Here Alfred, King of the Saxons, But Othere, the old sea-captain, He neither paused nor stirred, Till the King listened, and then Once more took up his pen, And wrote down every word. "And now the land," said Othere, "Bent southward suddenly, And I followed the curving shore, And ever southward bore Into a nameless sea. "And there we hunted the walrus, The narwhale, and the seal; Ha! 't was a noble game! Flew our harpoons of steel. "There were six of us all together, In two days and no more And dragged them to the strand!" Here Alfred the Truth-Teller And Othere, the old sea-captain, And to the King of the Saxons, Raising his noble head, He stretched his brown hand, and said, "Behold this walrus-tooth!" Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. ODE ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY THIS is the month, and this the happy morn, Wherein the Son of Heaven's Eternal King, Of wedded maid and virgin mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring; For so the holy sages once did sing That He our deadly forfeit should release, That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable, Wherewith He wont at Heaven's high council-table He laid aside; and, here with us to be And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay. Say, heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein. Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain Now while the heaven, by the sun's team untrod, See how from far, upon the eastern road, From out his secret altar touched with hallowed fire. THE HYMN It was the winter wild While the heaven-born Child All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; Nature in awe to Him Had doffed her gaudy trim, With her great Master so to sympathize: To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. Only with speeches fair She woos the gentle air To hide her guilty front with innocent snow; The saintly veil of maiden white to throw; Should look so near upon her foul deformities. But He, her fears to cease, Sent down the meek-eyed Peace; She, crowned with olive green, came softly sliding Down through the turning sphere His ready harbinger, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing; She strikes a universal peace through sea and land. No war or battle's sound Was heard the world around : The idle spear and shield were high up hung; The hooked chariot stood Unstained with hostile blood; The trumpet spake not to the armèd throng; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began: Smoothly the waters kist, Whispering new joys to the mild ocean Who now hath quite forgot to rave, While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmèd wave. The stars, with deep amaze, Bending one way their precious influence; For all the morning light, Or Lucifer that often warned them thence; But in their glimmering orbs did glow Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. And though the shady gloom Had given day her room, The sun himself withheld his wonted speed, And hid his head for shame, As his inferior flame The new-enlightened world no more should need; He saw a greater Sun appear Than his bright throne or burning axletree could bear. The shepherds on the lawn Or ere the point of dawn Sate simply chatting in a rustic row; Full little thought they then |