Irish Jesuit Province

The Eighth of DecemberAuthor(s): Arthur RyanSource: The Irish Monthly, Vol. 12, No. 138 (Dec., 1884), pp. 612-613Published by: Irish Jesuit ProvinceStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20497206 .

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THE EIGHTH OF DECEMBER.

BY THE REV. ARTHUR RYAN.

A MID this chill December gloom, When flowers sleep in their darkling tomb,

Ere yet the gleam of Christmas gladness Breaks for a while the winter's sadness,

Beams out a ray, Spring-like to-day; Opes a white flower, Glad for the hour; Rings up a cry Clear to the sky,

Mary Immaculate!

'Twas thus when first the hapless pair, Driven in shame from Eden fair, Seeing, adown the years of sorrow, Labour to-day, and death to-morrow,

Found in the word Spoke by the Lord Hope of reprieve

Woman, like Eve, Saved from her woe, Crushing her foe,

Mary Immaculate!

So in this hour of darkest night, Alas! that men should boast its light! When hearts from Truth and Beauty turning With nameless, shameless fires are burning,

Rises a star, Radiant afar: Stands forth a Pope Strong in his hope, Flings to the world Banner unfurled,

Mary Immaculate !

Ours are the shepherds' eyes that weep 'Mid gathering gloom the wandering sheep:

Priests though we be, our hearts grow weary Chilled by our watch, this winter dreary:

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Three Christmas Trees. 6I3

Oars be to-day Courage to pray That through the night,

Waiting for light, Our hope may be Constant to Thee,

Mary Immaculate!

THREE CHRISTMAS TREES.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY M. M1.

I.-EDMU-ND'S.

JN a German town, on Christmas Eve, the shop windows were cdressed in the showiest wares and gaily decorated, temptingly

attracting passers-by. Between the curtains, in private houses, light glimmered, presage of general preparation for the morrow's great festival.

Edmund, the only child of a barrister, was in his father's study, waiting in happy, impatient expectation for Christmas presents. His mother's light footsteps were audible passing to and fro the door of communication with the next room, as she furnished his tree; he almost thought he heard the flap of the Child-Christ's wings; * but Edmund was too honourable to look through the keyhole, though strongly tempted, as he felt verv impatient to know what was going on inside. His father tried to quiet him by telling a story. At last the door opened and he heard his mother's gentle " Come."

Edmund rushed into the room and stood transfixed with delight opnosite to the bright tree. For some weeks he had had vague, varying wishes for more gifts than his parents, though rich, could afford to give. Now all those fancies vanished; the actual presents before his eyes filled him with bliss, the more so that not having wished for one of them, each had the charm of complete novelty even in thought. Two handsome illuminated books-one, Bible Stories the other, Natural History, illustrated with pictures of the animals in the Zoological Gardens; a lovely wooden sleigh, with a warm over coat in it, and fur-lined gloves; some toys; and, lastly, a supply of

* In Germany a belief prevails among children that on Christmas Eve the Infant Christ flies from heaven on gold and silver wings, visiting every bouse, leaving gifts for all the young people, generally in a stocking hung near to each little bed.

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