large/11245/christmas_tales_and_verse_1612_librivox_64kb_mp3/christmas_09_field_64kb_29
large/11245/christmas_tales_and_verse_1612_librivox_64kb_mp3/christmas_09_field_64kb
English
11245
"Two children came to the hill side. The one, older than his comrade, was Dimas, the son of Benoni. TWO CHILDREN CAME TO THE HILLSIDE THE ONE OLDER THAN HIS COMRADE WAS DAMAS THE SON OF BENONI
 hill-side. Sometimes the lambs, gambolling too carelessly, have crushed and bruised us so that we lie bleeding and are like to die; but the little Master heals our wounds and refreshes us once again.' "I marvelled much to hear these things. 'The midnight hour is at hand,' said I, 'and I will abide with you to see this little Master of whom you speak.' So we nestled among the verdure of the hill-side, and sang songs one to another. "'Come away!' called the night wind; 'I know a beauteous sea not far hence, upon whose bosom you shall float, float, float away out into the mists and clouds, if you will come with me.' "But I hid under the violets and amid the tall grass, that the night wind might not woo me with its pleading. 'Ho, there, old olive-tree!' cried the violets; 'do you see the little Master coming? Is not the midnight hour at hand?' "'I can see the town yonder,' said the old olive-tree. 'A star beams bright over Bethlehem, the iron gates swing open, and the little Master comes. E COMES HERE OFTEN AND PLAYS AMONG THE FLOWERS OF THE HILLSIDE SOMETIMES THE LAMBS GAMBOLLING TOO CARELESSLY HAVE CRUSHED AND BRUISED US SO THAT WE LIE BLEEDING AND ARE LIKE TO DIE BUT THE LITTLE MASTER HEALS OUR WOUNDS AND REFRESHES US ONCE AGAIN I MARVELLED MUCH TO HEAR THESE THINGS THE MIDNIGHT HOUR IS AT HAND SAID I AND I WILL ABIDE WITH YOU TO SEE THIS LITTLE MASTER OF WHOM YOU SPEAK SO WE NESTLED AMONG THE VERDURE OF THE HILLSIDE AND SANG SONGS ONE TO ANOTHER COME AWAY CALLED THE NIGHT WIND I KNOW A BEAUTEOUS SEA NOT FAR HENCE UPON WHOSE BOSOM YOU SHALL FLOAT FLOAT FLOAT AWAY OUT INTO THE MISTS AND CLOUDS IF YOU WILL COME WITH ME BUT I HID UNDER THE VIOLETS AND AMID THE TALL GRASS THAT THE NIGHT WIND MIGHT NOT WOO ME WITH ITS PLEADING HO THERE OLD OLIVE TREE CRIED THE VIOLETS DO YOU SEE THE LITTLE MASTER COMING IS NOT THE MIDNIGHT HOUR AT HAND I CAN SEE THE TOWN YONDER SAID THE OLD OLIVE TREE A STAR BEAMS BRIGHT OVER BETHLEHEM THE IRON GATES SWING OPEN AND THE LITTLE MASTER COMES
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