The Goblins Christmas - Elizabeth Anderson

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The Goblin's Christmas by Elizabeth Anderson.

Once upon a time, I visited Fairyland

and spent a day in Goblin town.

The people there are much like ourselves,

only they are very, very small and rogish.

They play pranks on one another and have great fun.

They are good-natured and jolly and rarely get angry.

But if one does get angry,

he quickly recovers his good nature

and joins again in the sport.

If a Goblin should continue angry,

he would take on some visible form.

Perhaps he would become a toe or a squirrel

or some other little animal

and would have to live here on the earth plane forever more.

But if he keeps good natured,

he can come here and have his fun

and not be seen by anyone except a seer

or a very wise person.

Goblins are gracious to the wise people now,

but they were not always so.

A long, long time ago on a Christmas Eve,

the fairy folk were having great sport.

All the little people of the unseen world

had gathered together in the earth realm.

There were brownies and nooms and elves.

Even some little cherubs had joined them.

They were having a wild dance and a gay time

when who should appear but Chris cringle.

Now, the fairies did not know that he was a magician

or seer.

And so they tried to make sport of him.

But Chris, by his wonderful magic,

changed them into the most beautiful toys.

They became straight little jumping jacks

and dolls and bright dresses

and the dearest little rabbit with white soft fur.

And somewhere in the bottom of the sleigh,

one was turned into a cute little teddy bear.

Then old Chris tucked all these toys into his roomy sleigh

and shook the reins of his waiting steed.

Go on, he said, for I've many, many a chimney

to reach tonight.

Now this is the tale of the Goblin's Christmas

that the moonbeams told as they heard it from the fairy queen

who declares that every word of it is perfectly true.

The big bright moon hung high and round

in a densely darkened sky.

The tall pines swayed and mocked and groaned.

The mountains grew so high

that the man in the moon came out and said,

oh, spooks for a merry dance!

The winds blew hard, the caverns roar,

well over the earth they prance.

A witch and a goblin led the sprites

out from the sky they sprung

and down the Milky Way they slid

and over a chasm swung.

The streams around ran, which is broth,

the fumes were strong and rank.

These elven creatures all were wroth

well of the stuff they drank.

The cunning moon looked on and laughed

with a shrill and sneering jib.

Her soul grew fat to see them chaffed

this mad and elfish tribe.

The big black cauldron boiled so high

with food for these queer mites

that it lit the world throughout the sky

and down came all the sprites.

Their mad career upset a star

as through the air they flew.

It cringed in fear and shot a far

and fell where no one knew.

Orion's sword was broken bits.

Corona's crown was gone.

Capella seemed to lose her wits

while all so longed for dawn.

Then from the night there came a sound

of sleigh bells ringing sweet.

Out of the chaos came a man.

Chris cringle for his Christmas treat.

Oh, Chris, they cried.

We'll have some fun.

We'll bind the old man down.

We'll tie him up and toss him

or into our goblin town.

They climbed the sleigh with shout

and din to bind his hands and feet.

A hundred strong they clambered in

our good old Chris to meet.

He sat quite still with twinkling eyes.

Then seized his mystic wand.

He raised it up and waved it round.

Stillt was this chattering band.

Stiffly stark and still they stood.

Cloud and elfish clothes.

Some were wax and some were wood.

One had crushed his nose.

Play things rare, he said and smiled.

For children rich and poor.

Some all leave the crippled child

and some at the orphan's door.

He shook his reins and called his steed

to bear him swiftly on.

Full well it knew its master's need

to hurry air the dawn.

From house to house they scampered down.

Their sleigh bells ringing clear.

Through chimneys in the sleepy town.

Good Chris and his reindeer.

The windows rattled.

The moonbeams battled.

A tail so strange and queer.

They told how at night in dire a fright.

The moon had hid in fear.

That he'd called in sport his elfish court

of spooks and witches gay.

Each elf and child by glee beguiled

brought scores of others they say.

Then a man appeared with flowing beard

and a sled with reindeer fleet.

They gathered about with din and shout

to bind him hands and feet.

Then the moon laughed loud at the gathering crowd.

Well he held his sides in mirth

to seal Chris in a plight like this,

toiling more the earth.

But alas for the moon he had laughed like a loon

for Chris is a hero of old.

Yes Chris is a seer.

With his small reindeer he captured the goblin's bold.

And he changed them.

They say in a wonderful way to toys

for his Christmas cheer.

The big doll's stare with a goblin air.

The small ones cringed with fear.

Well the moonbeams prattle.

I hear a rattle of hoofs on the chimney side.

Then out on the snow I gazed below.

Hurrah it's Chris cringole I cried.

Then sly as a mouse he entered the house

and hung up his treasure so gay.

Then out with a dash he sped like a flash

into the night and away.

End of the goblin's Christmas by Elizabeth Anderson.