A Christmas scene, by X
"O tidings of comfort and joy,
comfort and joy,
O tidings of comfort and joy..."
Eight little voices echo in the streets before Stephansdom. Aged cobble-stones sit in their comfortable homes, resting under whole hills of snow. Golden carriages rattle on in the clear paths, their sleigh bells sending greetings to the whole world. Somewhere in the depths of the city, a string quartet serenades a public garden. Despite the chill, an old man sits in his rooms and plays a carol on pianoforte, smiling a blissful smile. Elm trees, withered in their icy glow, slumber and sway upon the gentle breeze of a late winter morning. Blue shadows from the rising sun cast their dancing countenance across every street and into every window. In the snug landings, noble childrens' bow-ties are drawn and boot-strings tied; daschunds trot royally, in their own way. All the empire is awash in the bright rays of the day's joy, and a thousand curtains are drawn to let in the glorious ancient light. Another band of singers cries forth from the streets:
"Let earth receive her King;
Let every heart prepare him room..."
In the high hill of Himmelpfortgrund, an old milkman delivers his frozen stock and hurries home to the fire. Far down the snowy hills and misty alleys, on the cosy shores of the Danube, a fishwife straightens her back and admires the golden morning. A legion of valets, footmen, butlers, maids, manservants, and liveried grooms burst forth from their places and fill the streets. Calls for hansoms, broughams, barouches, and tandems reverberate across the avenues. The doors of Hotel Sacher are flung open, and an army of students from the north country fly into every corner to explore the wide-open parks and ways. The sun reaches its full rise, and every spire radiates with brass bells and polished stones. Carols, chorales, hymns, songs, and dances fill the raucous air!
Deep in the old palace, Habsburgs gleefully open their ribbons and play under the Tree. A creaky headmaster opens up his shutters and puts the early fire on. A stiff wind out of the Innerstadt gives off forests of smoke from uncounted numbers of hearth and home, and happiness spreads across the Earth. The fog clears and grumpy grandfathers open their shutters to embrace the world. The youngest people of all march about in off-tune marching bands, boots, and overcoats, and the city bristles with life. Band stands play their Christmas tunes, complimenting the toddlers' flutes on sidewalks.
"All you within this place,
And with true love and brotherhood
Each other now embrace;
This holy tide of Christmas
All others doth deface..."
Below the hills and palaces, beyond the walls, and away in the rural country, farmers enjoy their puddings. Sturdy tables of oaken wood keep hot porridge, succulent pork, boiled eggs, and good old hops. Plums and candied things rest upon branches, evergreen thistles litter the cabins, and yards hold mountains of gossamer beauty. Peasants bring out the Russian sleighs and visiting family dance a rustic länder on floors of the local village inn. Out and out and out, forever onward and upward, the hardiest of men trudge and crunch into the Alpine ranges before the sun reaches its height. Norfolks, fur coats, and ten million gloves keep them in their happy warmth. No avalanches seem to impede the way, today. The solemn morning sun shouts across the mountaintops; here is a stag, and there is a courageous raven singing its songs!
Down and down and down, forever flowing to the city, voluptuous brooks branch their way to the ancient city. Ice flows as syrup into Donau's valley, and water maidens bring their under-mentionables for the day's wash. Life circles about and about in an eternal dance before that city, the city! Officials and noblemen bring out their guns to have a jolly hunt. There a handmaiden is startled by gunshot, and here a baron tips his hat in apology. Silver snow covers the world, wreathes deck the country halls and holly makes happy decor for every boy and girl! Stuffy old country gentlemen take their canes and off for the walk, whilst whistling the most joyous and beloved melodies of the day. On and on and on they walk, taking their leisure in coming to the outskirts of the city for festivities. Church bells echo into the lands within and beyond the border, for the sun is coming to its mid-day high. Strings, horns, trumpets, and drums signal the coming of the full day! That ball of fire in the sky lights every luncheon and tea party on Christ's Way!
Sacred hearts glow under candle-light. The fires, once burning, now come closing and closing and closing in the sunset. Embers burn away and ashes come to make well on their stay as the State Opera opens its balconies. The lamps are lit and out comes the Messiah, out come Beauty and the Beast, Tosca, the Mikado, and Idomeneo! St. Stephen's dome glitters with evening light and the mass of the Joyous Blood of the World rings out for all to hear! Butchers close their doors and woodmen lock the bolts, but the post office stays open just another hour. Children are put to bed, and harps give way to mourn the passing of the sun-soaked world, drenched in lovely snow. The trees are alive, dancing in the windy evening light, and the weather turns to pure white flakes. Night falls upon the roof-tops and sapphire water's bays.
Thus passed another Christmas away, marking His birth day!
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