Richmond Enquirer

A CHRISTMAS ODE
FOR THE CARRIERS OF THE
RICHMOND ENQUIRER.

Written on public occasion request,
By A Young Lady of This City.

I.
That Day, which Angels welcome'd with delight,
Again returns, by Time's unceasing flight;
When Eve, whose coming sainted Bards of old,
In rapturous strains, or pious joy, foretold;
Lovely and meek, on mercy's errand came,
Vengeance to lull, and quench with blood its flame,
To stay the bolt by angry Justice hurl'd,
And from destruction save a sinking world.

II.
Hark! now when night in solemn stillness reigns,
And no rude sound disturbs the silent plains;
When all appear in still repose to sleep.
Save the lone Shepherds, who their vigils keep;
What strain, divine, in soft harmonious notes,
Thro' the still air with heavenly accents floats?
Angels descend, with songs of sacred mirth,
To hail the Morn that gives a SAVIOUR birth.

III.
Thro' morning's mists, a STAR resplendent gleams
And guides the Eastern Sages by its beams:
Till where the Holy Infant smiling lay,
It stood and bright diffus'd its sacred ray,
Inspired with love, and fill'd with holy zeal,
Before his face the astonish'd Sages kneel;
Their choicest gifts they spread before his seat,
And as their King, the babe of BETHLEHEM greet.

IV.
The STAR which then its guiding lustre shed,
And on their way the wond'ring Sages led.
Shone the bright emblem of that Star whose light,
Shall chase the mists of Superstition's night;
When o'er those climes where darkest ignorance
reigns,
And streaming blood her cruel altar stains.
The "Star of Jacob" shall its beams display,
And point to Heav'n the joyful pilgrim's way.
When pure Religion shall her reign extend.
And at her shrine adoring nations bend.
No cruel law, or barb'rous right shall claim
The victim's life, to feed the raging flame-
No frantic widow shall the pile ascend
And with her cries the pitying bosom rend,
While bright the flames with scorching fury rise,
And roll their smoking columns to the skies.

VI.
Where now with savage yells of loud acclaim
They fill the air and shout some idol's name:
Where Juggernaut with cruel sway presides,
And in his pond'rous Car, triumphant rides,
while crush'd beneath its wheels of grating sound.
Some victim's blood streams smoking on the ground;
The pious tongue shall glad Hosannas raise.
And tune with rapture sacred Hymns of praise.

VII.
Religion! source of never-ending joy.
Whose sacred power can every vice destroy,
Whose gentle precepts with persuasive art
Expand the soul, and humanize the heart;
No victim's blood thy spotless altar dyes,
Nor dying groans within thy temples rise:
But, smiling Peace upon thy Courts attends,
And o'er thy shrine forgiving Mercy bends.

VIII.
There, too, Benevolence by Pity stands,
And deals her favours with unsparing hands,
She only waits occasion to bestow
Her liberal gifts, and bid her blessings flow.
Then in this land, where with resplendent light,
Religion's rays diffuse their lustre bright,
Will not Benevolence exert her sway?
Will not each heart her gen'rous laws obey?

IX.
And should she reign within the bounteous soul,
And sway the bosom by her soft controul,
Cannot the "Carrier," on this sacred day,
So often greeted by his grateful lay.
When "Christmas" comes the circling year to close,
And from his toils to yield him some repose;
A trifling boon, or small reward obtain,
From those o'er whom her gen'rous dictates reign?

X.
His constant labours thro' the changing year,
May claim, from Dounty's lib'ral hands, a share:
When furious War, exults with madd'ning rage,
And hostile bands, in combat fierce engage;
The great result of Victory's fight to tell,
Or name the Heroes who contending fell:
With eager haste his hurried task he plies,
And oft from slumber keeps his wakeful eyes.

XI.
His tiresome round with weary steps he treads,
When wintry snow the dazzling plain o'er-spreads,
Before your view to place the historic page,
Fraught with events that mark the present age;
Or else around Instruction's brows to bind
The wreath by gay Amusement's hand entwin'd;
Your leisure hours he strives to entertain
By laughing jest or Poet's idle strain.

An allusion to the custom which prevails in India, of widows devoting themselves to the flames on the funeral piles of their husbands.

† Juggernaut—The principal Idol of India. He is placed in a stupendous Car, drawn by his Worship pers. Those who wish to sacrifice their lives to the God, prostrate themselves before the Car, and are crushed to death by the wheels, which roll slowly over them.