Gaudete!

I had every intention of doing posts on each Sunday in Advent. I am not going to whine and blame it on a cold, but I will say (sadly, sadly....) that either my aging immune system is starting to find the eternal business of warding away ailments to be too much for it, or seasonal ailments have a much more pernicious tenacity than they had in my youth. Colds are supposed to be relatively paltry ailments, aren't they? Someone should point that out to the nasty thingy that is going around ambushing the population here.

However, this being the 3rd Sunday in Advent - Gaudete Sunday, and half way through this season of penance, and the tenacious ailment slackening its vicious hold on my motivation, I thought I would take the time to mark this happy day with a rather beautiful excerpt from Handel's Messiah:

Today also seems like the ideal day to share a recently re-discovered Tolkien poem that was in the news a few months back. It is technically a Christmas poem, but the first couple stanza's seem so Advent that today seemed a very good day to most it:

NOEL
 Grim was the world and grey last night:
The moon and stars were fled,
The hall was dark without song or light,
The fires were fallen dead.
The wind in the trees was like to the sea,
And over the mountains’ teeth
It whistled bitter-cold and free,
As a sword leapt from its sheath.

The lord of snows upreared his head ;
His mantle long and pale 

Upon the bitter blast was spread

 And hung o’er hill and dale.

 The world was blind, the boughs were bent, 

All ways and paths were wild : 

Then the veil of cloud apart was rent, 

And here was born a Child. 

 The ancient dome of heaven sheer 

Was pricked with distant light ; 

A star came shining white and clear 

Alone above the night. 

In the dale of dark in that hour of birth 

One voice on a sudden sang : 

Then all the bells in Heaven and Earth

 Together at midnight rang. 

 Mary sang in this world below : 

They heard her song arise

 O’er mist and over mountain snow

To the walls of Paradise,

 And the tongue of many bells was stirred 

In Heaven’s towers to ring 

When the voice of mortal maid was heard, 

That was mother of Heaven’s King. 

 Glad is the world and fair this night 

With stars about its head, 

And the hall is filled with laughter and light, 

And fires are burning red. 

The bells of Paradise now ring 

With bells of Christendom, 

And Gloria, Gloria we will sing 

That God on earth is come

It is not so strong as some of his later poems, but you can see glimpses of his future poetry in it. The imagery is strong and beautiful, and it seems the sort of thing that ought be set to melody, and sung by people who are glad to sing and do so heartily.

And with that, a very happy day to all of you, and a blessed Advent season.