The Crimson Christmas! What a name to give
To such a day—the Birthday of the King—
The Prince of Peace! How sad the narrative:
Instead of Angels, Mars is on the wing!
The Hun hath changed the song of love to hate
And plunged the world into a sea of blood!
What Belgium is will be each nation's fate
Unless, combined, they check the Hunnic flood.
The Crimson Christmas staggers Christendom:
Hell leaps with fiendish glee, while Heaven is sad;
The gladsome song yields to the muffled drum
And new-made widows are in blackness clad;
The crape hangs on the door—the world's at war!
The Crimson Prophecy—Sacrifice!
Sin is the cause of human misery!
'T was disobedience to God's great command
That brought our woe. The crimson prophecy
Proclaims the cure for sin's vile contraband.
Behold the Fathers' love in Sacrifice—
God's Christmas gift—unspeakably divine!
The cost of man's Redemption—what a price—
The fruit of Wisdom's Infinite design!
The Child-King grew in stature; when a man,
He gave Himself a Sacrifice for all.
Self-sacrifice is still the Crimson-plan;
The Shirker only disobeys the call;
Blood is the price of human liberty
And life by death the Crimson Prophecy!
Troy Times December 24, 1917
Morning Herald [Gloversville, NY]. December 24, 1917: 6 cols 2-3.
Christopher K. Philippo