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Leaves of holly : (1911-1923) / by Cotton Noe. Noe, James Thomas Cotton, 1864-1953. 400dpi TIFF G4 page images University of Kentucky, Electronic Information Access & Management Center Lexington, Kentucky 2002 b92-239-31299769 Electronic reproduction. 2002. (Beyond the shelf, serving historic Kentuckiana through virtual access (IMLS LG-03-02-0012-02) ; These pages may be freely searched and displayed. Permission must be received for subsequent distribution in print or electronically. Leaves of holly : (1911-1923) / by Cotton Noe. Noe, James Thomas Cotton, 1864-1953. s.n., [S.l. : 192-]  leaves ; 17 cm. Coleman Christmas poems. Cover title. Microfilm. Atlanta, Ga. : SOLINET, 1994. 1 microfilm reel ; 35 mm. (SOLINET/ASERL Cooperative Microfilming Project (NEH PS-20317) ; SOL MN04814.08 KUK) Printing Master B92-239. IMLS This electronic text file was created by Optical Character Recognition (OCR). No corrections have been made to the OCR-ed text and no editing has been done to the content of the original document. Encoding has been done through an automated process using the recommendations for Level 1 of the TEI in Libraries Guidelines. Digital page images are linked to the text file. (91 1-1923) b (lotton not ., . -MW In ! 77, 0, i5 iI v " lall e , u Jc,,..... RAW .Z. 00-1 0 0 v z To Rowena Foley Noe A Sonnet of the Season The Carol in my heart I send to you: It comes from out the depths of brooding time To cheer and bless in every place and clime; To purge the false, to chasten and subdue; To lift the drooping life, inspire the true To nobler deeds and thoughts of love sublimte. This anthem, which I sing in sonnet rhymie, Judean shepherds heard and angels knew. And now we fear top longer war's alarms, For red-eyed Mamns has fled at last our home; Christ took the little children In his arms And blessed them saying, "Sutter them to come To me that al' the sons of inen may find My kingdom here within the childlike mind." This page in the original text is blank. Christmas Tide Evergreen and tinsel toys, Drums and dolls and bursting joys- Blessed little girls and boys! Holly, bells, and mistletoe, Tinkling sledges, here we go- Youth and niaideii, o'er the snow. Chilling winds and leaden days, Vesper soligs and hymns of praise, Silver hair and dying blaze. Chiristmnas morn. and Yuletide eve, De ar Lord, help us to believe Nau-Jit but blessings we receive. This page in the original text is blank. Holiday Thougbts The Night wa.j like sonme monster omten ill, Whose shrieking chilled the marrow of my bones; But Day dawineed vlear (though white as polar zones), Th-e Bluebird shout ing, "Spring," from every hill: The world lay parching in the noonday grill, And blades of corn were twvisting into cones; But night brought raiii, and then, like golden thrones, The fruited shocks defied Decnember's chill. Dear Lord, I would that we might live by fa-ith, However co"d and dark the day may seem, And trust that every cloud is but a wraith, And every shadow a dissolving dreamsi. O M.aster, grant our eyes miay see the lights That glealin forever on the beaconi heights. This page in the original text is blank. Worship The crown of Caesar glittering on his brow, The sword of Nero clanking at his side, His giant hand made crimson in the tide Of Life, insatiate ,Mammon feigns to bow Before the altar of the Prince of Peace. How long, 0 God in heaven, wilt thou bide This mockery of the lowly Christ, who died That sin and greed and enmity -might ceaso Not Holy Wars, nor death of heretics, Nor rich cathedrals towering to the sky, Nor bended knee before the crucifix, Nor any faith in form can sanctify; But Brotherhood devoid of self ish strife, And Love, the incense of a noble life. This page in the original text is blank. Fellow -Travelers Old comrade, must we separate to-day Sometimes my feet have faltered, sore and tired, And sometimes in the sloughs and quicksaiids mired, But it has always helped to hear you say, "The road is fine a little further on." Your always genial smile and hearty cheer Have made the journey pleasant, good Old Year, And I, in truth, regret to see you gone. Young New Year whom you leave me as a guide, In doubt would have me pledge a lot of thin-gs Before we start, and make some offerings To gods whose love, I fear, reill not abide, And yet I like my new companion's face. Old Year, lend him your wisdom and your grace. This page in the original text is blank. A Rhyimieless Sonnet Sardonic Death, clothed in a scarlet shroud, Salutes his minions oIt the crumbling thrones Of Tyranny, and with malicious leer He points a fleshless finger towards the fields Of B1elgiunm: "No harvest since the days Of Bonaparte and Waterloo hath filled My flagons with a wvine of such taste- Your crowns ye hold by rights divine indeed!" Appareled in a robe of shining hlite Another lifts his hands as if to bless: "The Truth enthron-ed in Democracy Has twined the holly round Columbia's brow- A crown of 'Peace on earth, good will to men'- I am the Resurrection and the Life." This page in the original text is blank. Christmas Nineteen-Seventeen All of the old dreams have gone,- The thrice told tale around the hearth, The holly and the mistletoe and mirth, And shouts of innocence and joy before the dawn. All of the old dreams are gone, And in their stead a million shattered souls, inert, And Hunger's piercing cry. But memory and love can never die- Dear God, help us to bear the hurt. This page in the original text is blank. Chrstinas Not in bells and mistletoe, Evergreen and tinsel showv, Not in incandescent glow Is Christmas. Neither in the poet's rhyme Is there Christmas every time; Prose and verse are sometimes art; Only in the loving heart Is Christmas. Not in merriment and fun, Flaming candle, roaring gun, Not in snow or cloud or sun Is Christmas. Neither always in the gift- Maybe this is sometimes thrift, Practiced with a little art; Only in the throbbing heart Is Christmas. This page in the original text is blank. My Carol The rhyme I send is all my gift to you, And though its music's jangled out of tune September skies that wvould be ouly June- It's but the hand-the ninistrel's harp is true; For if you heard the sonig my heart would pen, 'Twould be the choral that the angels saug That night the hills of old Judea rang With anthems, "Peace on earth good will to nien." This page in the original text is blank. Dreams Vanishing with the cycles- All but the dreams: The lads that gathered round the hearth, The sweethearts of our crimson youth, The tales we used to tell, Even the songs we knew and loved; But children's shouts around the Christmas Tree Will be forever musical and sweet, Because of dreams. Dear God, we thank Thee for the dreams. This page in the original text is blank. At the Christmas Tree I saw the Master at the Christmas Tree. Radiant He sat apart and watched the scene- The children's jubilee, The candles and the evergreen The golden and the tinsel sheen. Tenderly He listened to the dinl, And looked upon the faces still uniscared by sin. I saw Him note poor crippled Nancy Dove And little orphan Joe, Both laden with the gifts of love; And then I understood the words hie uttered long agr: "Suffer the little children to come to me." This page in the original text is blank. The Simple Art I met a jolly chap to-day As I came downt the Great Highway. He had a pack upon his back That almost blocked the road. Yet on he came beneath his load Singing a roundelay. "Aha!" I mused, "sonie peddler, he, I wonder what his wares can be" As though he read my thoughts lie stopped Left off his song, looked up and dropped His pack, and thus saluted me: "Now let us see," he said, said he, "If you rememiber me." His beard was like the polar snmav;, His cheeks were ruddy as the glow Of sunset in a winter sky. At first I knew not what to say. I looked him somewhile in the face, I looked him in the eye, Until there came the vaguest trace, And then the perfect meniory Of fifty years ago to-day:- An old man and a tiny boy, A tin horn a md unbounded joy! But still it was beyond my ken That he seemed younger now than theii By half a century. "Your sect-et, Sanmta Claus," criel I; "How do you Father Time defy" He laughed outright, "The Siniple Art Of keeping Chmristmna.s in the heart." This page in the original text is blank. Christmas In The Heart As I came downi the Great Iliglh-tay I met the saine old chap tdlay Who carries in his giant pack Enough to break a Titan's back. Yet on he strode beneath his load, Singing his roun delay. Now I declare I think his hair Was whiter thaii a polar bear, And yet his voice and what he sung Were proGf that Santa Claus wi-. yi uug. I hfailed hin., "I deniaud the truth,- Your secret of eternal youth." "I told 3ou once- The Simiple Art Of keeping Christmas in the heart.' " "But, Santa Claus, wil( y N oi explain Just how I ctni this Ait attaiii" "By trusting mnuch to faith anld love, Believing, though you can not prove; By giving more than you receive, And taking less than you achieve; Forgivinig base ingratitude, The insult anid the angry mood.- Forgetting all the hurt and ro allg." And theit lie raised his blithesome song, And started on beneath his load Of gifts that almost blocked the road. "Dear Santa Claus," I cried, "but how, How can one I)ractice such an Art " His niellow voice was tremnbling 1o(w, "By hekrhing Christmas in the Heart!"