{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_69379/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_69379","id":"gutenberg_69379","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69379","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Christmas poetry"],"text":"[Illustration:\n\n  _Here is the well-spring of those sparkling, saving waters--\n  Here, in the heart of Mary\u2019s Blessed Boy!_\n\n  (_See page 33._)\n]\n\n\n\n\n  Prince Ragnal\n\n  AND OTHER HOLIDAY VERSES\n\n  BY\n\n  ELEANOR C. DONNELLY\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n  PHILADELPHIA\n\n  H. L. Kilner & Co.\n\n  PUBLISHERS\n\n\n\n\nCopyright, 1898, by Eleanor C. Donnelly.\n\n\n\n\n  TO\n\n  MY REVERED FRIEND OF MANY YEARS,\n\n  Rev. Matthew Russell, S. J.,\n\n  Editor of the \u201cIrish Monthly,\u201d Dublin, Ireland,\n\n  THIS LITTLE BOOK IS DEDICATED\n\n  BY HIS SPECIAL PERMISSION.\n\n\n\n\nFINDING LIST\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n                                      PAGE\n\n  PRINCE RAGNAL                          9\n\n  CHRISTMAS CAROL                       22\n\n  AT DAME NO\u00cbL\u2019S                        26\n\n  A MURILLO                             29\n\n  THE STABLE OF BETHLEHEM               31\n\n  THE THREE MASSES ON CHRISTMAS DAY     34\n\n  THE GOD-MAN                           37\n\n  BETHLEHEM\u2019S QUEEN                     38\n\n\n\n\nPrince Ragnal.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nA Christmas Legend of Early Christian Ireland.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\nTHE EVE.\n\n  White and chill from the wintry skies,\n    The starlight falls upon ancient Eire:\n  The wind makes moan thro\u2019 the leafless trees\n    Of Devenish Isle, like a soul in fear,--\n  Deep in the heart of its snowy woods,\n    Fanning a peat-flame, lone and drear.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  The ruined hut where that turf-fire glows\n    Hath never a roof of thatch or stone,\n  But bow and spear on the rude walls hang,\n    And a bed of skins on the floor is strewn,\n  Where, close to the embers, stern and still,\n    Ragnal the leper sits alone.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  Ragnal of Errigal, prince of doom,\n    His face, a death-mask of despair;--\n  The foul disorder\u2019s loathly scales\n    Lacquer his skin with their hideous glair:\n  Dulling the blue of his brave young eye,\n    Dimming the gold of his tangled hair.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  Bowed like a churl of three-score ten,\n    His peak\u00e9d chin in his wasted hands,\n  He watches the flames with a sluggish eye,\n    Sparkle and glow in their fiery dance;\n  Till, deep in the embers, pictured, lie\n    His life\u2019s lost hopes--its dead romance.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  A royal castle beside the sea,\n    On breezy cliffs, exultant, set:\n  A Prince and Princess, young and fair,\n    Pacing the grassy parapet,\n  The golden fringe of his long, bright hair\n    Sweeping the maiden\u2019s locks of jet.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  Thro\u2019 perfum\u2019d air, replete with peace,\n    The swallows skim the blue waves\u2019 flow:\n  The lovely Dympna\u2019s hand, at rest\n    On her lover\u2019s arm (a thing of snow)--\n  Thrills, as he bends his head, and breathes\n    In her blushing ear, a whisper low.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  She gathers the fleece of her floating veil\n    From the nodding shade of his raven plume,\n  As, gravely pleading, he bends again\n    To hear those bright lips speak his doom.\n  --Why does she start and lift her head?\n    Why are her cheeks devoid of bloom?\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  He sees the flash of her wide, dark eye,\n    He hears her clear voice rise and fall:\n  \u201cSooner than sell my faith in Christ,\n    My life I\u2019d yield--my love--my all!\n  Content my bridal vows should prove\n    A martyr\u2019s grave and a virgin\u2019s pall!\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  Then, in the flames, his other self\n    He sees, erect in scorn and pride:\n  \u201cSooner would I a leper be,\n    Far from the world to crouch and hide,\n  Than bend to a Christian priest mine knee,\n    Or take to mine arms a Christian bride!\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  The royal blood leaps in her face,\n    Her voice rings out its golden knell:\n  \u201cO Christ! incline Thy pitying grace,\n    And pardon this poor infidel!\u201d\n  Then, with averted, shuddering gaze,\n    \u201cUnhappy Ragnal! fare thee well!\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  A sudden darkness shuts her in ...\n    The flutter of her snowy gown--\n  The sunlit towers--the sparkling waves\n    In pallid embers, crumble down;\n  As Ragnal by the fire sits,\n    A leprous Prince without a crown!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  \u201cO lily, nurtured by the sea!\n    Sweet Dympna, long-lost, promised bride!\n  Thine unknown Christ\u201d--(he cries aloud):\n    \u201cThis night hath triumph\u2019d o\u2019er my pride!\n  Forgive me!\u201d--Lo! a gust of song\n    Fills all the wintry world outside!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE DAWN.\n\n\n  A thrilling, heavenly harmony\n    From silvern harps and lutes divine:\n  The Leper, prostrate on his face,\n    Drinks in the glorious draught like wine;\n  Then, rising, reels like drunken wight,\n    Into the starlight\u2019s wondrous shine.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  For strange, unearthly lustres fill\n    The frosty air. To Ragnal blown,\n  Across Lough Erne, there comes the breath\n    Of sweetest blossoms ever grown;\n  Yet, right or left, above, below,\n    No living thing or shape is shown.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  All wordless, o\u2019er the sparkling Lough,\n    The music steals again--but hark!\n  \u201c_Gloria in excelsis!_\u201d sings\n    A voice, up-soaring like a lark;\n  While: \u201c_Et in terra pax!_\u201d (strange words!)\n    Drop down to Ragnal thro\u2019 the dark.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  His breast heaves with a mighty fear,\n    The strong man trembles like a reed:\n  The while the minstrels float before,\n    (Tho\u2019 ulcer\u2019d feet and ankles bleed),\n  Straight onward through the shining wood,\n    He needs must follow where they lead;\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  And walks, and walks, and walks, and walks,\n    His bare feet buried in the snow;\n  While flaming eyes of savage beasts\n    From bog and thicket, glare and glow.\n  He sees the stars slide down the east,\n    He hears the cocks begin to crow.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  Yet walks, and walks, and walks, and walks,\n    Till ev\u2019ry nerve and sinew aches,\n  And sweat and blood and loathly scales\n    Mark ev\u2019ry painful step he takes--\n  When, suddenly, the rapturous sound\n    That lured him on--his path forsakes!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  And with his burning forehead bared,\n    The hoar-frost on his yellow locks,\n  The Leper finds himself before\n    An open cave, wherein an ox\n  And ass are stalled--dumb, placid brutes,--\n    Their manger rooted in the rocks.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  And in the midst--O Vision strange!--\n    A Woman glorious as the moon,\n  Upon whose breast, a radiant Child\n    Lies, like a rosebud blown in June,\n  His eyes (twin-lamps of Paradise!)\n    Making the night a brilliant noon.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  They look on Ragnal sweet, yet sad,\n    And Ragnal bends his aching knee;\n  He stretches forth his wasted arms,\n    And cries: \u201cEternal praise to Thee!\n  O Blessed Christ! Thine hour is come--\n    Complete the work begun in me!\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  And then, he swoons--how long--how short\n    A space, he knows not--till his eyes\n  He, languid, opens to the dawn,\n    Faint-blushing in the eastern skies;\n  And sees the cavern full of shapes,\n    And blazing with a glad surprise!\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  _And in the midst--O Vision strange!--\n    A Woman glorious as the moon,\n  Upon whose breast, a radiant Child\n    Lies, like a rosebud blown in June._\n\n  (_See page 16._)\n]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  An altar cloth\u2019d with pure samite,\n    Adorned with gold and precious stones--\n  A Christian priest in vestments white\n    Baptizing many little ones;\n  And all the people on their knees\n    Singing in full, melodious tones!--\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  Whose hand on Ragnal\u2019s shoulder lies?\n    Whose sweet voice murmurs in his ear?\n  \u201cFor such as _thou_, the Christ was born;\n    Arise, Prince Ragnal, and draw near!\u201d\n  A veil\u00e9d woman leads him down\n    To where the altar-lights shine clear.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  The Hidden Presence strong and sweet\n    His erring son would closer draw.\n  In the warm glory of the shrine,\n    His icy blood begins to thaw:\n  Yet Ragnal dare not lift his eyes--\n    He trembles with delicious awe.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  What time the children yield him place,\n    (Without a look or sign of dread),\n  Kneeling before the ag\u00e9d priest,\n    The sacred words are softly said;\n  And with a thrill of joy, he feels\n    The saving waters on his head.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  O miracle of purest faith!\n    The people shout and clap their hands--\n  Like some foul mantle, earthward, cast,\n    Down drop the Leper\u2019s loathsome bands!--\n  Ragnal, the Golden-hair\u2019d, once more,\n    In manly beauty, perfect, stands!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  While, clear and strong to Heaven\u2019s high court,\n    Goes up the glorious Christmas hymn--\n  The shrouded woman at his side\n    Flings back her veil from eyes that swim\n  With happy tears--and Dympna\u2019s face\n    Shines star-like, from the shadows dim!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  Forgiven the past--forgot the pains\n    Which made _that_ face his bitterest dream;\n  A trusting smile is on its lips,\n    Its eyes with glad affection beam,\n  While, down the Prince\u2019s waving beard,\n    The grateful tears, unbidden, stream.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  The priest hath joined their willing hands;\n    The day grows bright--the wind blows free--\n  As thro\u2019 the woods, they go to seek\n    Their sunlit castle by the sea.\n  O Ragnal of the Golden Hair!\n    The Lord hath gracious dealt with thee!\n\n\n\n\nChristmas Carol.\n\n\nI.\n\n  O holy Night! O starry Night,\n    That ushers in Salvation\u2019s morn!\n  O blessed Eve of rare delight,\n    Whereon the Christ was born!\n  Thine angels flood the hills with song,\n    And rouse the shepherds from their sleep;\n  While past\u2019ral pipes the lay prolong,\n  Around the Stable door, they throng\n    With votive lambs and sheep.\n\n            Sing _Gloria_, sing _Gloria_\n            _In excelsis Deo!_\n\n\nII.\n\n  O solemn Night! O lustrous Night,\n    That fills the earth with brightest Day!\n  The Wise Men come in robes of white\n    From kingdoms far away.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  _This Babe--the Virgin\u2019s sinless Boy--\n  Shall sin and hell and death destroy,\n    And heaven\u2019s portals ope!_\n\n  (_See page 25._)\n]\n\n\n  What time their weary journey ends,\n    They haste to worship Judah\u2019s King;\n  In jewel\u2019d zones and bazubends\n  Behold the three Chaldean friends,\n    Gold, myrrh, and incense bring!\n\n            Sing _Gloria_, sing _Gloria_\n            _In excelsis Deo!_\n\n\nIII.\n\n  O radiant Night! O Night of nights!\n    Thy bells ring sweet from Paradise;\n  Thine orient Star, eternal, lights\n    The Crib where Jesus lies!\n  Wealth of the poor, the mourner\u2019s joy,\n    The sinner\u2019s shield, the captive\u2019s hope,\n  This Babe--the Virgin\u2019s sinless Boy--\n  Shall sin and hell and death destroy,\n    And heaven\u2019s portals ope!\n\n            Sing _Gloria_, sing _Gloria_\n            _In excelsis Deo!_\n\n\n\n\nAt Dame No\u00ebl\u2019s.\n\nAN OLD-WORLD TRADITION.\n\n\n  The clock strikes Twelve! \u2019Tis Christmas Eve\n    At old Dame No\u00ebl\u2019s farm;\n  Beyond the house, with holly wreathed,\n  The barn in mistletoe is sheathed.\n    (God save us from all harm!)\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  The red cock to the manger springs,\n    And shrills its Christmas prayer;\n  Three times, it flaps its shining wings,\n  Then, \u201c_Christus--natus--est!_\u201d--it sings.\n    --The ox roars \u201c_Ubi?_--Where?\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  But, soft thro\u2019 swaths of sun-dried grass,\n    It hears the lamb below,\n  From out the shimmering, scented mass,\n  Bleat: \u201c_Beth\u2019lem! Beth\u2019lem!_\u201d--Brays the ass:\n    \u201c_Eamus!_--Let us go!\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  And \u2019round about the hive (whose zone\n    Shall summer sweets embalm),\n  The bees go floating as they drone,\n  Go floating, as they thus intone\n    Their honeyed, midnight psalm:\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  \u201c_Let all Creation praise the Lord,\n    Who comes to men this Christmas morn:\n  The Son of God, th\u2019 Incarnate Word,\n    In Bethlehem of Mary born!_\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  \u201c_Good ox, good ass, your brothers wait\n    This hour beside His Crib--A sign\n  There, too, is thine, meek lamb; thy Mate\n    Is Blessed Mary\u2019s Lamb divine!_\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  \u201c_And, from thy seed, bold Chanticleer!\n    Shall spring that bird of Passiontide,\n  Whose voice shall thrice to Peter\u2019s ear\n    Proclaim: \u2018Thou hast thy Lord denied!\u2019_\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  \u201c_Ah! tho\u2019 we little bees may ne\u2019er\n    Find in the Holy Babe, our part;\n  Nor, with our sweetest honey, dare\n    To heal His tender, bleeding heart;_\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  \u201c_Tho\u2019 none of us may share Man\u2019s grace,\n    Nor claim his Saviour newly-born,\n  Yet do we still His mercies praise,\n    And bless His birth, this Christmas morn!_\u201d\n\n         *       *       *       *       *\n\n  Thus do the bonny creatures strive\n    To hail Love\u2019s mystery;\n  In comely shapes, alert, alive,\n  Thus do they greet, in stall and hive,\n    Our Lord\u2019s Nativity!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  Thus, do the Soulless keep the feast\n    At old Dame No\u00ebl\u2019s farm;\n  The Christmas star shines in the east,\n  Soft chimes the bell--swift glides the priest--\n    God save us from all harm!\n\n\n\n\nA Murillo.\n\n\n  The lovely Christ-Child, like a lily, lies\n    Within His Maiden Mother\u2019s pure embrace--\n  The azure depths of her adoring eyes,\n    The faithful mirrors of His glorious face!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  The while upon her bosom, warm and white,\n    She shelters Him, with love and tender awe,\n  From the bleak darkness of the winter night,\n    From the rough manger and the bristling straw,\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  The shepherds at the dazzling Vision stare;\n    The gentle beasts, at Joseph\u2019s touch, bow down;\n  And angel choirs in vibrant tones declare\n    That Christ is born a babe in David\u2019s town!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  O Babyhood, the harbinger of hope\n    To every babe enthroned on woman\u2019s breast!\n  O Motherhood, within whose gracious scope\n    All lesser motherhood is shrined and blessed!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  No sceptred C\u00e6sar can dispute _your_ sway--\n    Angels or men your golden mission claim--\n  For yours is Christ--to-day and yesterday,\n    And thro\u2019 the eternal ages, still the same!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nThe Stable of Bethlehem.\n\n\n  There is no ante-chamber in this royal palace,\n    There are no waiting-rooms of haughty state:\n  No chamberlain austere, no courtiers puff\u2019d with malice,\n    To shut us out from where the King doth wait--\n  The new-born King, unscepter\u2019d and uncrown\u2019d,\n  In swaddling-bands of lowly linen bound.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  Open and wide to all, are these old palace-portals--\n    The very beasts have found their way therein.\n  Amid the thronging Angels, would ye seek for mortals?\n    Behold the Virgin without stain of sin,\n  And Joseph, her chaste spouse!--Thrice bless\u00e9d pair!\n  They kneel before the Babe in wordless prayer!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  The sweetest, fairest Babe e\u2019er seen! Thro\u2019 ruined rafters,\n    The happy stars shine in upon His stall;\n  The keen wind, blowing from the fields and mountain-pastures,\n    Deepens the rose-tint of His visage small,\n  And bids His hands, on Mary\u2019s bosom, glow\n  Like soft, pink blossoms on a drift of snow.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  Kneel and adore Him! Bring your hearts, as stainless lilies,\n    To cast before His darling, dimpled feet!\n  Soon shall the shepherds from the dusky hills and valleys,\n    In simple faith, around His manger meet;\n  And stately Kings, on wondrous quest intent,\n  Shall bring their gifts from out the Orient.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n  O Love, so free, so royal, yet so condescending--\n    So unpretentious in Thy majesty!\n  As Thy beginning, even so shall be Thine ending\n    Upon the open heights of Calvary!\n  A fountain, free to all beneath God\u2019s heaven,\n  Wherein all sinners may be cleansed and shriven!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  Here is the well-spring of those sparkling, saving waters--\n    Here, in the heart of Mary\u2019s Blessed Boy!\n  From out the Saviour\u2019s fountains, O earth\u2019s sons and daughters,\n    Ye shall draw graces with exceeding joy;\n  And, with the Christmas Angels, rapturous, sing:\n  Glory and homage to the new-born King!\n\n\n\n\nThe Three Masses on Christmas Day.\n\n\nI.\n\n    \u201c_The Lord hath said to me: Thou art my Son, this day have I\n    begotten thee._\u201d--Ps. ii, 7.\n\n  Deep in the bosom of the Father lies\n    His co-eternal Word--the Infinite,\n    Whose generation\u2019s everlasting light\n  Illumes the unborn ages.... Lift your eyes,\n  And contemplate that Home in Paradise,\n    That first eternal Dwelling of the Word!--\n  Before the angels were,--before the skies\n    Blush\u2019d over Eden, or the waters stirred\n  Under the Spirit\u2019s strong, creative breath,--\n    Uttered the Father in His bosom blest\n  This glorious Word.... What matter change or death?\n    Amid the Godhead\u2019s central fires expressed,\n  Life lives in Love.--O men of vision dim,\n  Here, at His altars, kneel, and worship Him!\n\n\nII.\n\n    \u201c_And they came with haste, and they found Mary and Joseph,\n    and the Infant lying in a manger._\u201d--Luke ii, 16.\n\n  Tho\u2019 midnight shadows wrap Him in their pall,\n    The stars upon His rosy sweetness shine;\n  From Mary\u2019s bosom to the cattle-stall,\n    He passes in His baby grace divine!\n    _Venite adoremus._ In this shrine,\n  Our God appears, our Saviour, and our All!\n  Before the Word made Flesh, adoring, fall,\n    And praise the Everlasting\u2019s blest design.\n  Far, o\u2019er the hills, the angel-chorus rings;\n    The Shepherds, thro\u2019 the dusk, are drawing nigh;\n  St. Joseph\u2019s lantern glows.... The Eastern Kings\n    Stand out, like giants, \u2019gainst the bright\u2019ning sky.\n  \u201c_Glory to God!_\u201d--(the swelling strains increase)\n  \u201c_And, on the earth, to men of good-will--peace!_\u201d\n\n\nIII.\n\n    \u201c_A child is born to us, and a Son is given to us, and the\n    government is upon his shoulders; and his name shall be called\n    the Angel of great Council._\u201d--Isaias ix.\n\n  Within the Bethlehem of these poor hearts,\n    The manger of our souls, O Prince of men!\n    Come, in Thy pity, and be born again!--\n  Ere yet the golden Christmas-tide departs,\n  Love, with its thousand sweet and tender arts,\n    Shall emulate the Shepherds\u2019 glowing zeal,\n  Or, like the Magi from the Orient marts,\n    Shall gold, and myrrh, and frankincense reveal.\n\n  O Babe, so rich in Thy great poverty,\n    Give us Detachment\u2019s grand, divorcing grace!\n  O Babe, sublime in Thy humility,\n    Grant us, in Thee, all pride to self-abase!\n  O suff\u2019ring Babe, so blissful in Thy woe,\n  A self-denying joy, on us, bestow!\n\n\n\n\nThe God-Man.\n\n\n  \u201cWould I might be as God!\u201d the first man cried,\n  When, with forbidden fruits, Sin\u2019s reign began.--\n    Lo! to repair the ruin wrought by Pride,\n  Christ, in the manger, we behold as Man!\n\n\n\n\nBethlehem\u2019s Queen.\n\n\n    \u201c_And going into the house, they found the Child with Mary,\n    his Mother._\u201d--Matt. iii, 11.\n\n  O what would this life be without our sweet Mother?\n    --A desert divested of well-springs and trees,\n  A land without music, light, fragrance, or flowers,\n    A black, sultry night, without moonlight or breeze!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  No solace for souls in their struggles with Satan,\n    No hope for the sinner engulf\u2019d in despair,\n  No light for the saint in his doubts and temptations,\n    No stronghold of peace in a world full of care;\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  Dear _Cause of our joy!_ bearing Bliss in thy bosom,\n    Clear _Mirror of justice!_ resplendent with light,\n  Rare _Mystical Rose!_ in thy glory a-blossom,\n    Fair _Star of the morning!_ dispelling our night,--\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  Tho\u2019 all the foul fiends of the regions infernal\n    Assail the sad spirit with clamorous din;\n  Tho\u2019 earth and the earthy obscure the Eternal,\n    And Life\u2019s brightest promise be blighted by sin,--\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  What bliss but to feel the cool print of thy sandal\n    On fiery promptings and passions aglow;\n  To nestle, like birds, \u2019neath thy sky-color\u2019d mantle,\n    And calm our hot hearts on thy bosom of snow!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  What bliss thro\u2019 the darkness, the heat, and the clamor,\n    To fly to thy feet, to thy virginal shrine,--\n  And there, in thy presence, releas\u2019d from Sin\u2019s glamor,\n    Drink in deepest draughts of thy spirit divine!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  O drear would our life be without this fair Flower,\n    This Lily of Israel, blooming alone!\n  Sweet Christ! how we bless Thee for Bethlehem\u2019s dower,\n    Which made Thy pure Mother forever our own!\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber\u2019s Notes\n\nItalics are represented thus _italic_.","title":"Prince Ragnal, and other holiday verses","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":2978}