The Bells of Christmas

“Pilgrim, you of the loosened lachet, What do you hear as you roam and roam?” “Master, I list to the bells of Christmas, The bells of Christmas, calling me home! “They call and call, and I fain would hasten Back to the warmth of the old roof-tree, To the plentiful board and the merry faces, And the twilight prayer at the mother’s knee!” “Pilgrim, you of the loosened lachet, Why, then, still do you roam and roam?” “Master, ’twas but a dream they conjured, The bells of Christmas, calling me home. “’Twas but a vision out of the distance, Happy and holy and sweet, forsooth! ’Twas but a vision out of the distance, Out of the long lost vale of Youth!” “Pilgrim, you of the loosened lachet, All of us have our dreams like thee, And back are borne by the bells of Christmas To the twilight prayer at the mother’s knee!”