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The faces of familiar friends seemed strange:

Their voices I could hear, And yet the words they uttered seemed to change

Their meaning to my ear.

For the one face I looked for was not there,

The one low voice was mute;
Only an unseen presence filled the air,

And baffled my pursuit.

Now I look back, and meadow, manse, and stream

Dimly my thought defines;
I only see - a dream within a dream

The hill-top hearsed with pines.

I only hear above his place of rest

Their tender undertone,
The infinite longings of a troubled breast,
The voice so like his own.



There in seclusion and remote from men

The wizard hand lies cold, Which at its topmost speed let fall the pen,

And left the tale half told.

Ah! who shall lift that wand of magic power,

And the lost clew regain ?
The unfinished window in Aladdin's tower

Unfinished must remain !



HEARD the bells on Christmas day
Their old, familiar carols play,

And wild and sweet

The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men !

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along

The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men !

Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,


Christmas Bells.

À voice, a chime,

A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,

And with the sound

The carols drowned

Of peace on earth, good-will to men !

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearthstones of a continent,

And made forlorn

The households born

Of peace on earth, good-will to men


And in espair I bowed my head;
“ There is no peace on earth,” I said ;

“For hate is strong

And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”

Christmas Bells.


Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: “God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!

The Wrong shall fail,

The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!”

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