rt to sing or see
How fair thy faint wan face may be.

DECEMBER

December, thou whose hallowing hands
On shuddering seas and hardening lands
Set as a sacramental sign
The seal of Christmas felt on earth
As witness toward a new year's birth
Whose promise makes thy death divine,
The crowning joy that comes of thee
Makes glad all grief on land or sea.

ENGLAND: AN ODE

I

Sea and strand, and a lordlier land than sea-tides rolling and
rising sun
Clasp and lighten in climes that brighten with day when day that
was here is done,
Call aloud on their children, proud with trust that future and past
are one.

Far and near from the swan's nest here the storm-birds bred of her
fair white breast,
Sons whose home was the sea-wave's foam, have borne the fame of her
east and west;
North and south has the storm-wind's mouth rung praise of England
and England's quest.

Fame, wherever her flag flew, never forbore to fly with an equal
wing:
France and Spain with their warrior train bowed down before her as
thrall to king;
India knelt at her feet, and felt her sway more fruitful of life
than spring.

Darkness round them as iron bound fell off from races of elder
name,
Slain at sight of her eyes, whose light bids freedom lighten and
burn as flame;
Night endures not the touch that cures of kingship tyrants, and
slaves of shame.

All the terror of time, where error and fear were lords of a world
of slaves,
Age on age in resurgent rage and anguish darkening as waves on
waves,
Fell or fled from a face that shed such grace as quickens the dust
of graves.

Things of night at her glance took flight: the strengths of
darkness recoiled and sank:
Sank the fires of the murderous pyres whereon wild agony writhed
and shrank:
Rose the light of the reign of right from gulfs of years that the
darkness drank.

Yet the might of her wings in flight, whence glory lightens and
music rings,
Loud and bright as the dawn's, shall smite and still the discord of
evil things,
Yet not slain by her radiant reign, but darkened now by her
sail