N gloaming light on Christmas night,
I sate at my organ playing,
Fitful gleams from the sea-coals bright,
The garments of night were fraying.
CHRISTMAS NIGHT.
![I](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/3d/Poems_Eckley_I.jpg/41px-Poems_Eckley_I.jpg)
I sate at my organ playing,
Fitful gleams from the sea-coals bright,
The garments of night were fraying.
They draped my room in weirdest gloom,
They frescoed the walls of gray,
Tho' glint of gold, and a scarlet plume
Deck'd the shroud of the corpse of day.
They frescoed the walls of gray,
Tho' glint of gold, and a scarlet plume
Deck'd the shroud of the corpse of day.
I cannot tell you what I played,
For I scarce could see the keys,
As I felt out the harmony that stray'd
Through my soul like a heavenly breeze;
For I scarce could see the keys,
As I felt out the harmony that stray'd
Through my soul like a heavenly breeze;
And breathed vague tuneful numbers,
Some old and forgotten rhyme,
That memory still encumbers
With the ring of a first-love chime.
Some old and forgotten rhyme,
That memory still encumbers
With the ring of a first-love chime.
With Handel I seemed communing,
Till my spirit was almost lost
To earth's discords and untuning,
Her warfare, bloodshed and frost.
Till my spirit was almost lost
To earth's discords and untuning,
Her warfare, bloodshed and frost.
Then I fell into listless musing,
Dreamily fingered the chords,
The harmony still unloosing,
That could find no vent in words.
Dreamily fingered the chords,
The harmony still unloosing,
That could find no vent in words.
In gloaming light, on Christmas night,
I sate at my organ playing,
While fitful gleams from the sea-coals bright,
The garments of night were fraying.
I sate at my organ playing,
While fitful gleams from the sea-coals bright,
The garments of night were fraying.
They shadow'd my room in spectral gloom,
They frescoed my walls of gray,
Tho' glint of gold and a scarlet plume
Deck'd the shroud of the dying day.
They frescoed my walls of gray,
Tho' glint of gold and a scarlet plume
Deck'd the shroud of the dying day.
Bath, 1862.