Welcome, Christmas -- A Christmas Poem By I. Edgar Jones (1880)

Welcome, Christmas

Once more the Merry Christmas time — the joyous time is near,

When happy hearts are warmed anew with hope and honest cheer;

What though the frost be cold and keen, or winds may wail around,

If in the hearts around the hearth the light of love is found.

Let scarlet berries blush on walls, and Christmas faggots roar —

While scattered friends unite about the festive board once more —

The youth with light and lissome form, the maid In girlish grace —

The middle-aged with thoughtful brow, the grandsire's furrowed face.

While through the frosty air is heard, in ringing tones and clear,

The Christmas carols, old, yet new to every listening ear.

And over all, the silver sounds, that echo through the dells —

And bear a greeting to the world of Merry Christmas bells.

When age once more lives o'er the scenes of many a Christmas past,

And from the heart of toiling ones the curse of care is cast;

When thousands bask in blessings bright — no time for toil and tears —

A resting place for human hearts through all the circling years.

For hope was born on such a morn near Bethlehem's sacred ground,

And there the silver threads of life for hopeless millions found;

What wonder that gathering years have graved its image deep;

And memory's angels over it their fondest vigils keep.

Then let your Christmas altars burn, and keep its record clear,

And welcome it with love renewed with every circling year.

Let love lights glow, despite the snow, or frosty winter's vine,

While pulses beat, and welcomes greet the happy Christmas time.

Ring out, oh, Merry Christmas bells! and let your pulses bound,

Till Christmas carols fill the air and reach the world around.

The years have times to sob and sigh, to sorrow and be sad,

Be yours the voice bids all rejoice, be satisfied and glad.

Then welcome, Christmas! ancient friend, with heavenly hope and cheer,

The saint whose blessing crowns with light the slowly dying year —

Right glad are we that though our lives away are fading fast

Thy happy face shall come again, and cheer us to the last.

Poem by I. Edgar Jones

Published in the Pacific Rural Press, Volume 20, Number 26, 25 December 1880