Noel by J.R.R. Tolkien

I've never been a Tolkien fan. The Hobbit and all the related books just never appealed to me at all. I was totally taken by surprise recently to discover that Tolkien also wrote a beautiful Christmas poem that was basically unknown and "lost" until 2013. It had been published 1936 in an obscure literary publication, received little notice at the time and receded into oblivion, not coming to light even after Tolkien's death in 1973. I regret not ever having heard Noel by Tolkien. It is written in a traditional ballad form with a regular rhythm and rhyme, a feature that I strongly prefer in poetry. It has a strong metre of alternating 8 beats and 6 beats per line, with regular rhyme, plenty of imagery, and poetic devices like alliteration that appeal to the ear. It is 5 stanzas of 8 lines each and is a beautiful tribute to the amazing salvation brought to the weary world in the birth of Jesus. Although it was republished in September of this year, it is not very easily found with Google yet, and I have copied it into my blog for my own convenience.

Noel

by J.R.R. Tolkien

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.