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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374252" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Two Christmas Eves</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I</div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE white snow veils the earth's brown face, <br>Strong frost has bound the veil in place-- <br>Under the wide, clear, dark-blue sky <br>All choked with snow the hollows lie, <br>Dead-white the fields--once summer sweet-- <br>And woodlands where we used to meet: <br>We don't meet now, we never part. <br>Ever together, heart to heart, <br>We've worked, lost often, seldom won, <br>Seen pleasures ended, pains begun, <br>Have done our best, and faced, we two, <br>Almost the worst that Fate could do-- <br>Yet not Fate's uttermost of ill, <br>Since here we are--together still! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>For me you left, my dearest, best, <br>Your girlhood's safe warm sheltered nest; <br>For me gave up all else that could <br>Have made your woman-life seem good. <br>You thought a man's whole heart was worth <br>Just all the other wealth of earth; <br>I thought my painter's brush would be <br>A magic wand for you and me. <br>What dreams we had of fame and gold, <br>Of Art-that never could withhold <br>From me, who loved her so, full powers <br>To make my love for her serve ours, <br>To shape and build a palace fair <br>Of radiant hours, and place you there! <br>Art turned away her face from us, <br>And all the dreaming's ended--thus! <br>Our garret's cold; the wind is keen, <br>And cuts these rotten boards between. <br>There is no lock upon the door, <br>No carpet on the uneven floor, <br>No curtain to the window where <br>Through frost-blanched panes the moon's cold stare <br>Fronts us. She's careless--used to see <br>This world of ours, and misery! <br>Why, how you shiver! Oh, my sweet, <br>How cold your hands are, and your feet! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>How hot this face of yours I kiss! <br>How could our love have led to this? <br>What devil is there over all <br>That lets such things as this befall? <br>It was not want of striving. Love, <br>Bear witness for me how I strove, <br>Worked till I grew quite sick and faint, <br>Worked till I could not see to paint <br>Because my eyes were sore and wet, <br>Yet never sold one picture yet. <br>We would have worked--yes, there's the sting-- <br>We would have worked at anything! <br>Our hands asked work. There's work somewhere, <br>That makes it all more hard to bear; <br>Yet we could never understand <br>Where is the work that asks our hand! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>There's no more firing, and the cold <br>Is biting through your shawl's thin fold, <br>And both the blankets have been sold. <br>Nestle beside me, in my arm, <br>And let me try to keep you warm. <br>We pawned the table and the bed, <br>To get our last week's fire and bread, </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And now the last crust's eaten. Well, <br>There's nothing left to pawn or sell! <br>Our rent is due on Monday too, <br>How can we pay it--I and you? <br>What shall we do? What shall we do? <br>And we are--what was that you said? <br>You are so tired ? Your dearest head <br>Is burning hot, and aching so? <br>Ah, yes! I know it is--I know! <br>You're tired and weak and faint and ill, <br>And fevers burn and shiverings chill <br>This world of mine I'm holding here. <br>If I could suffer only, dear-- <br>But all the burdens on you fall, <br>And I sit here, and bear it all! <br>And other men and other wives, <br>Who never worked in all their lives-- <br>No, nor yet loved as we have, sweet-- <br>Are wrapped in furs, warm hands and feet, <br>And feast to-night in homes made bright <br>With blazing logs and candle-light; <br>Not dark like this, where we two sit, <br>Who chose to work, and starve for it! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Don't go to sleep; you mustn't sleep <br>Here on the frozen floor! Yes, creep <br>Closer to me. Oh, if I knew <br>What is this something left to do! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Listen to me! It's Christmas Eve, <br>When hearts grow warmer, I believe, <br>And friends forget and friends forgive. <br>What if we stifled down my pride, <br>And put your bitter thoughts aside, <br>And asked your father's help once more? <br>True, when we asked for it before, <br>He turned and cursed us both, and swore <br>That he disowned you. You and I <br>Had made our bed, and there must lie; <br>That he would help us not one whit, <br>Though we should die for want of it. <br>Now I shall ask his help again. <br>It's colder now than it was then; <br>The cold creeps closer to life's core-- <br>Death's nearer to us than before; <br>And when your father sees how near, <br>He may relent, and save you, dear. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>For my sake, love! I am too weak <br>To bear your tears upon my cheek, <br>Your sobs against my heart, to bear <br>Those eyes of yours, and their despair! <br>Not faltering, my own pain I bore-- <br>I cannot bear yours any more! <br>Stand up. You're stiff? That will not last! <br>The stairs are dark? They'll soon be passed! <br>You're tired? My sweet, I know you are; <br>But try to walk--it isn't far. <br>Oh, that the Christ they say was born <br>On that dream-distant Christmas morn <br>May hear and help us now! Be strong! <br>Yes, lean on me. Perhaps ere long, <br>All this, gone by, will only seem <br>A half-remembered evil dream. <br>Come; I will help you walk. We'll try <br>Just this last venture, you and I! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">II</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Failed! Back again in the ice-gloom <br>Of our bare, bleak, rat-haunted room! <br>The moon still looks--what does she care <br>To see my moon-flower lying there? <br>My rose, once red and white and fair, <br>Now white and wan, and pinched and thin, <br>Cold, through the coat I've wrapped her in, <br>And shivering, even in her sleep, <br>To hear how wakeful rats can keep. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>We dragged our weary faltering feet <br>Through the bright noisy crowded street, <br>And reached the square where, stern in stone, <br>Her father's town-house sulks alone. <br>Sick, stupid, helpless, wretched, poor, <br>We waited at her father's door. <br>They let us in. Then let us tread <br>Through the warm hall with soft furs spread. <br>Next, 'Name and business.' Oh, exact <br>Were the man's orders how to act, <br>If e'er his master's child should come <br>To cross the threshold of her home! <br>I told our name. The man 'would see <br>If any message was' for me. <br>We waited there without a word. <br>How warm the whole house was! We heard </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Soft music with soft voices blent, <br>And smelt sweet flowers with mingled scent, <br>And heard the wine poured out--that chink <br>That glass makes as the diners drink-- <br>The china clatter. We, at least, <br>Appreciated that night's feast. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Then some one gave a note to me <br>With insolent smile. I read: 'When she <br>Is tired of love and poverty, <br>And chooses to return to what <br>She left, the duties she forgot, <br>And never see again this man, <br>And be here as before--she can.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>We came away: that much is clear; <br>I don't know how we got back here-- <br>I must have carried her somehow, <br>And have been strong enough. And now <br>She lies asleep--and I, awake, <br>Must do this something for her sake-- <br>The only possible thing to do, <br>Oh, love! to cut our soul in two, <br>And take 'this man' away from you! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>If now I let your father know <br>My choice is made, and that I go <br>And you are here--oh, love! oh, wife! <br>I break my heart and save your life. <br>Doubt what to do? All doubt's about <br>The deeds that are not worth a doubt! <br>This deed takes me, and I obey, <br>And there is nothing left to say. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Good-bye, dear eyes I cannot see-- <br>Weep only gently, eyes, for me; <br>Dear lips, I've kissed and kissed again, <br>Lose those encircling lines of pain; <br>Dear face, so thin and faded now, <br>Win back youth's grace, and light, and glow; <br>Oh, hands I hold in mine--oh, heart <br>That holds mine in it--we must part! <br>When you wake up, and find me fled, <br>And find your father here instead, <br>Will you not wonder how my feet <br>Ever could turn from you, my sweet? <br>Ah, no! your heart and mine are one; <br>Our heart will tell you how 'twas done. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>No more we meet until I've won <br>Enough to dare be happy on; <br>And if I fail--I have known bliss, <br>And bliss has bred an hour like this. <br>I am past Fate's harming--all her power <br>Could mix nought bitterer than this hour. <br>Good-bye--our room--our marriage life!-- <br>Oh, kiss me through your dreams, my wife! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">III</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have grown rich! I have found out <br>The thing men break their hearts about! <br>I have dug gold, and gold, and sold <br>My diggings, and reaped in more gold-- <br>Sowed that, and reaped again, and played <br>For stakes, and always won, and made <br>More money than we'll ever spend, <br>And have forborne one word to send. <br>It has been easier for her so: <br>To wait one year, and then to know <br>How all is well, and how we two <br>Shall part no more our whole lives through. <br>It had been harder to have heard <br>Some incomplete, imperfect word </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Of how I prospered, how despaired, <br>How well I strove, how ill I fared, <br>Or strove well and fared well, nor know <br>Each day which way the scale would go; <br>Rejoice, and grieve, and hope, and fear, <br>As I have done throughout the year. <br>The year is over now--the prize <br>Is--all our lives of Paradise! <br>Through all the year her lips and hands <br>Have drawn me on with passion-bands, <br>Her soul has held my soul, and taught <br>The way of storming Fortune's fort. <br>My little love, those days of ours, <br>Our dear delight, our sacred hours <br>Have wrapped me round in all the year; <br>And brought the gold and brought me here, <br>And brought this hour than all more fair-- <br>Our triumph hour! What shall we care <br>For all the past's most maddening pain <br>When you are in my arms again? </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>The yellow dust I loved to hold <br>Was like your hair's less heavy gold; <br>The clear, deep sea, that bore me hence, <br>Was like your eyes' grey innocence; </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And not one fair thing could I see <br>But somehow seemed yourself to me. <br>The very work I had to do <br>Easier than rest was, done for you. <br>And through my dreams you walked all night <br>And filled sleep's byways with delight! <br>How I have wondered every day <br>How you would look, and what would say <br>On that same day! 'Perhaps she paints, <br>Thinks of our lessons--prays to saints <br>With my name in her prayers--or goes <br>Through gardens, heaping rose on rose. <br>How I love roses! Or mayhap <br>Sits with some work dropped in her lap, <br>And dreams and dreams--what could there be <br>For her to dream about but me?' </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>This London--how I hated it <br>A year ago! It now seems fit <br>Even to be our meeting-place. <br>It holds the glory of her face, <br>The wonder of her eyes, the grace <br>Of lovely lines and curves--in fine, <br>The soul of sweetness that is mine! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>I'll seek her at her father's; say, <br>'I claim my wife. I will repay <br>A hundredfold all you have spent <br>On keeping me in banishment, <br>On keeping her in affluence, <br>At her heart's dearest coin's expense! <br>That is past now, and I have come <br>To take my wife and sweetheart home, <br>To show her all my golden store, <br>My heart, hers to the very core, <br>And never leave her any more!' </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>But just before that hour supreme, <br>Close here our old house is, that dream <br>And daylight have been showing me <br>The year through. I would like to see <br>That room I found so hard to leave, <br>So hard to keep, last Christmas Eve. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Faith's easy now! There is a God <br>Who trod the earth we two have trod; <br>He pays me for our pain last year, <br>For all these months of longing, fear, </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Doubt and uncertainty--outright, <br>By letting me come here to-night <br>And just contrast that dead despair <br>With the Earth-Heaven we two shall share! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Just one look at the old room's door, <br>If I can get no chance of more; <br>Yet gold will buy most things--may buy <br>The leave to see that room. We'll try! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>May I go up? Just once to see <br>The room that sheltered her and me?-- <br>My God! the rapture of to-day <br>Has sent me mad;--you did not say <br>She died the night I went away!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edith+Nesbit">Edith Nesbit</a><div class=q>
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THE white snow veils the earth's brown face, 
Strong frost has bound the veil in place-- 
Under the wide, clear, dark-blue sky 
All choked with snow the hollows lie, 
Dead-white the fields--once summer sweet-- 
And woodlands where we used to me..."></div>
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