Christmas

A poem by Wilfred S. Skeats

'Tis Christmas day; the bells ring out
The joyous tidings far and near,
And children hail with gladsome shout
The merry sound of Christmas cheer.

'Tis Christmas day, the children's day,
When He was born a little child,
To take Creation's sin away,
And purify the Truth defiled.

He taught the world to walk by faith,
And, lest their feet should go astray,
He trod Himself the faithful path,
And showed His followers the way.

He taught a Hope to all oppressed
By Sorrow's weight or Sin's remorse;
Himself the contrite sinner blessed,
To give His words a greater force.

Oh! ye who tread in Trial's way,
Nor scarce can murmuring resist,
Remember, on His natal day,
The faithful suffering of Christ.

And ye, whose thoughts in memory trace
A darkened life of wrongful deeds,
Look up and see His kindly face,
Who now for your allegiance pleads.

Oh! Christians, to your name be true,
Cast all your faithlessness away,
And let your hope be born anew
On this, your Saviour's natal day.