Explore "Christmas Eve" by Robert Graves on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
On Christmas Eve the brute Creation / Lift up their heads and speak with human voices; / The Ox roars out his song of jubilation / And the Ass rejoices.
They dance for mirth in simple credence / That man from devildom this day was saved, / That of his froward spirit he has found riddance; / They hymn the Son of David.
Ox and Ass cloistered in stable, / Break bounds to-night and see what shall astound you, / A second Fall, a second death of Abel, / Wars renewed around you.
Cabals of great men against small men, / Mobs, murders, informations, the packed jury, / While Ignorance, the lubber prince of all men, / Glowers with old-time fury.
Excellent beasts, resign your speaking, / Tempted in man's own choleric tongue to name him. / Hoof-and-horn vengeance have no thought of wreaking, / Let your dumb grief shame him.