CHRISTMAS SONG

Though this is over 100 years old, I like in this
modern World. May all my readers have a
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

--T N McCoy

Why do bells for Christmas Ring?
Why do little children sing?
Once a lovely, shining star,
Seen by shepherds from afar,
Gently moved until its light
Made a manger-cradle bright.
There a darling baby lay
Pillowed soft upon the hay.
And his mother sang and smiled,
“This is Christ, the holy child.”
So the bells for Christmas ring,
So the little children sing.

-- Lydia A C Ward c1907

And then I came across this strange combination:

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SPECIAL NEWS ITEM

Extra…Extra…Extra…Extra…Extra…Extra…Extra


New Haven, CT…December 19, 2010…Unsigned

…Begin

Poets Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and Steven P. Turi today published their first collaborative effort, Christmas 2010, amidst mixed shock and threats.

“How rare indeed,” mused a renowned literary critic found fishing at a local watering hole. “Such an effort fascinates the imagination and attests to the concept of concise circumlocution with charming meet her…err…---especially from that new fellow, Turi. Beertender! Pease mix me for another dree martiny!”

Mr. Turi was on the floor by his computer stack looking for a transmission, but we did listen to the lengthy message on his rarely used answering machine. Mr. Longfellow, on the other hand, has been dead for the past hundred and twenty-eight years.

Copies of Christmas 2010 were fortunately limited in number and are no longer available. Consequently, this news item has not been written or released---and therefore does not exist.

…End


Christmas 2010

By Steven P. Turi and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Introduction: by the New Fellow

My Christmas now as Christmas then
Is filled with color bright of hue.
But all my green be numbers low,
Hence humble words result for you.

Two poets, though far their years apart,
Join palettes brushing words of taste,
To speak of past or now to be,
Brought forth in peace and hope encased.

Christmas Bells by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I 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, swinging on its way,
The World revolved from night to day
A 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 I despair 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!”

Then peeled 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!

Postscript by the New Fellow again

Alas! I mourn this year of scanty fare
Which brought no sign nor proof of wealth.
Yet, heart still beats the meter strong
To wish long life, peace, hope, good health.

Merry Christmas to you with whom I share
Email and voice, rare use of pen.
To join the he and she we are
For peace on Earth, good will to men!

The real end.