And like the rose whose sweets outlive
Its gay and fleeting bloom,
May I fair virtue's odour give
E'en from the silent tomb.
22. The Christmas Tree.
(From the German.)
'Twas on the night the Lord was born,
When through the festive town
A stranger child, and all forlorn,
Went wandering up and down.
At every house he stopp'd to gaze,
Where, hung with stars of light,
The Christmas-tree shot forth its rays
Through many a window bright.
Then wept the child, "Alas for me,
Here wandering all alone!
To-night all have their Christmas-tree,
But I—poor I—have none!
I too have play'd round such at home,
With sisters hand in hand;
And now a stranger child I roam,
Unpitied in the land.
"No loving smile awaits me now,
O holy Christ and dear;
Except thou love me, only thou,
I am forgotten here."
He spoke, when lo, with wand of light
And voice how heavenly sweet,
Another child, all rob'd in white,
Came gliding up the street.
