Poems (Acton)/Homage to the Author of the Christmas Carol

by Harriet Acton and Rose Acton

HOMAGE TO THE AUTHOR OF THE CHRISTMAS CAROL. ——

There is a name, a magic name,
 That bringeth visions bright,
And calleth lasting memories up,
 With fire each eye to light.

Familiar as a household word,
 Who loveth not its sound
Whene'er it comes, with smiles or tears,
 Its spell to cast around?

Steals there not ever o'er our souls,
 Beneath its sway, a gleam
Of noble thoughts and stirring truths,
 As 'twere a sunny dream?

Whose, then, that name so widely known,
 To which with pride we how?
Whose, then, the mighty hand that strikes
 A chord untouched till now?

Who, in the ever-varied page
 Of trying woe or mirth,
Hath roused our better self to aid
 The lowly ones of earth?

Friend of the humble and the poor!
 Oh! proud may England be,
'Mid princely wealth and high renown,
 To boast of one like thee.

Ne'er shall the Christmas holly green
 Our festal board entwine,
But 'twill recall, with deathless voice,
 Each thrilling word of thine.

Ne'er shall we feel the winter blast,
 Or hear the tempest wild,
But thy remembrance will invoke
 Our aid for Sorrow's child.

Pass, then, upon thy proud career,
 Still wider fame to seek;
Thy hand hath pointed out the tear
 On Poverty's wan cheek.

Shine ever from thy lofty height,
 As doth a brilliant star;
Yet hast thou nobly sought and won
 A brighter glory far.

The erring and the hardened heart,
 That, touched by thee, hath turned
To aid, in penitence and tears,
 The misery it spurned.

The prayers and blessings of the poor,
 That greet thee day by day,
These, these shall twine for thee a wreath
 That fadeth not away.
H. A.