The Seasons: A Masque. As Represented By Father Christmas And His Attendants Poem by Henry Alford

Part I.
The Prologue was given by Father Christmas habited in a red robe, with a white beard and an icy crown.
SOLO: BASS.

Father Christmas am I, white, withered, and dry,
With a gift in my hand, and a spark in my eye;
With the snow in my pole, and my feet to the coal,
But a fresh warm joy in the depths of my soul.

Father Christmas behold, all ashiver with cold,
But the parent of blessings too vast to be told;
Father Christmas is here but once in the year,
But his gifts and his memory ever are near.

And now I have summoned my chorus around,
While my servants, the Seasons, come forth and are crowned:
That my guests the kind powers in order may see,
Which ripen the growth of the Christmas Tree.

The scene opened, and disclosed the months, ranged by threes according to their Seasons. These were represented by twelve young ladies in white apparel, with proper wreaths and adornments. A harmony of four voices invoked the Spring. page

QUARTETT: SOPRANO, ALTO, TENOR, AND BASS.
Come, come, thou lingering Spring,
Sprouting the leaf, and clothing the bower,
Pushing the bud, and opening the flower,
Melting the frost, and dropping the shower:
Come, come, thou tarrying Spring,
Come, come, thou lingering Spring.

Come, come, thou dallying Spring,
Over the hills that rise to the West,
Show us the gleam of thy sky--blue vest,
Look but upon us and we shall be blest:
Come, come, thou lingering Spring.

At this entered the Spring, decked in vernal flowers, but not yet crowned. The Chorus announced her in a trumpet--like strain. She standing in the midst sung her roundelay.
SOLO: TREBLE.
I am here, I am here, with a smile and a tear,
With my bright blue eye, and my breath in a sigh,
And the soft mild air awake in my hair.

Come hie ye away, March, April, and May,
With your garland of green, and crown me your Queen,
While ye sing as ye stand on the blossoming land.

CHORUS. Hail, hail, hail!
We crown thee, we crown thee, O Spring.

Whereon the three Spring months placed on the head of Spring a garland of snowdrops, and the curtain fell on this part, amidst gladsome music.


Part II.
The scene being as before, with Spring crowned at the head of her months, Father Christmas entered, and announced the approach of Summer.
RECITATIVE: BASS.
Now wheels the sun in loftier march
His path across the daily sky,
And humming wings in leafy arch
Proclaim the gladsome summer nigh.

Blest Summer, sparkling child of light,
Calmer of ocean, sky, and tree,
Bring festive day, bring balmy night:
Appear, let all thy brightness see.

Summer being seen entering, a harmony of three voices gave her welcome.
TRIO: SOPRANO, ALTO, AND TENOR; AND CHORUS.
See Summer advancing,
With golden beams glancing,
With winged myriads dancing
Before her in air:
With warm breezes blowing,
And crystal streams flowing,
And bright blossoms glowing
Entwined in her hair.

Hail! Queen of soft pleasures,
All bounteous of treasures,
'Tis thus in glad measures
We welcome thee here.
May sunshine ne'er fail thee,
Nor tempests assail thee,
We crown thee and hail thee,
The Queen of the year.

On which her months crowned her with a garland of roses, and the curtain dropped with merry music.


Part III.
The Scene as before, with Spring and Summer, crowned, at the head of their months. The waning of the year was described in a harmony of four voices, and Autumn was invoked by the Chorus.
QUARTETT: SOPRANO, ALTO, TENOR, AND BASS; AND CHORUS.
What see we now! The fields grow sere,
The gossamer floats along the lea,
The reaper shouts his harvest cheer,
The apple blushes on the tree.

The sportsman's crack rings merrily,
The yellow moon is round and clear,
By the driving clouds and the foaming sea,
Autumn, we charge thee, appear, appear.

So entered Autumn, and being in the midst, but uncrowned, sung of her rich bestowals, and claimed her crown.
SOLO: TREBLE.
I come, the year waits me: I come to bestow
The ripe fruits that melt, and the colours that glow:
The gems of the sunset, the gold of the leaves,
The joy of the grape, and the wealth of the sheaves.

Come crown me, come crown me, ye months of my train,
None waited for Autumn and waited in vain:
The bright Summer's promise I come to fulfil,
For rich store and plenty 'tis Autumn brings still.

And then her months crowned her with a wreath of poppies and corn, and with joyful music the curtain closed on the third part.


Part IV.
The scene being as before, Spring, Summer, and Autumn, crowned, at the head of their months, Father Christmas, as belonging to him of right, called on his kindred Winter to appear.
RECITATIVE: BASS.
Come Winter, come my first--born child,
Come with thy train of horrors wild,
Come with the storm from tempest--cloud
Through leafless forest shrieking loud.

Come with thy days that swiftly go,
Thy piercing stars, and dazzling snow,
The skate thy music, ringing shrill,
Thy robe, the white drift on the hill.

Winter entering, was welcomed by the Chorus.
CHORUS
Hail to Winter! time of gladness.
Kindler of the blazing hearth,
Banisher of care and sadness,
Parent of bright thoughts and mirth.

Thus we crown thee Queen of Pleasures,
With the dark wreath on thy brow,
Keeper of the year's young treasures,
Best of all the seasons thou!

On which Winter was crowned by her months with a wreath of holly bright with berries. Being crowned, she took her place at the head of her months, and Father Christmas gave the Epilogue.
SOLO: BASS.
Father Christmas once more comes and knocks at your door,
And begs you to think on the houseless and poor;
On the Coventry Weavers that starve in the frost,
And the good you may do without feeling the cost.

Former years may have boasted their temperate clime,
But Christmas this year has both reason and rime;
For the pumps and the cisterns he froze them up all,
And shrunk the thermometers into the ball.

So remember, I pray you, our pageant to--night,
And as charity's large, so may spirits be light:
And attend yet a little with favouring ear,
While in chorus we wish you a Happy New--Year.

At this the Chorus sung their closing strain.
CHORUS. To all that are here
A happy new--year,
Months of profit and of mirth,
Social blessings without dearth
Sweet content with all its joy,
Balanced minds in full employ,
Houses full of peace and love,
Rich with blessings from above:
A happy new--year
To all that are here.
A merry, merry Christmas, and a happy new--year.