Sing, O my heart! 
    Sing thou in rapture this dear morn
    Whereon the blessed Prince is born! 
       And as thy songs shall be of love,
    So let my deeds be charity
       By the dear Lord that reigns above,
    By Him that died upon the tree,
          By this fair morn
          Whereon is born
    The Christ that saveth all and me!

THE SYMBOL AND THE SAINT

Once upon a time a young man made ready for a voyage.  His name was Norss; broad were his shoulders, his cheeks were ruddy, his hair was fair and long, his body betokened strength, and good-nature shone from his blue eyes and lurked about the corners of his mouth.

“Where are you going?” asked his neighbor Jans, the forge-master.

“I am going sailing for a wife,” said Norss.

“For a wife, indeed!” cried Jans.  “And why go you to seek her in foreign lands?  Are not our maidens good enough and fair enough, that you must need search for a wife elsewhere?  For shame, Norss! for shame!”

But Norss said:  “A spirit came to me in my dreams last night and said, ’Launch the boat and set sail to-morrow.  Have no fear; for I will guide you to the bride that awaits you.’  Then, standing there, all white and beautiful, the spirit held forth a symbol—­such as I had never before seen—­in the figure of a cross, and the spirit said:  ’By this symbol shall she be known to you.’”

“If this be so, you must need go,” said Jans.  “But are you well victualled?  Come to my cabin, and let me give you venison and bear’s meat.”

Norss shook his head.  “The spirit will provide,” said he.  “I have no fear, and I shall take no care, trusting in the spirit.”

So Norss pushed his boat down the beach into the sea, and leaped into the boat, and unfurled the sail to the wind.  Jans stood wondering on the beach, and watched the boat speed out of sight.

On, on, many days on sailed Norss—­so many leagues that he thought he must have compassed the earth.  In all this time he knew no hunger nor thirst; it was as the spirit had told him in his dream—­no cares nor dangers beset him.  By day the dolphins and the other creatures of the sea gambolled about his boat; by night a beauteous Star seemed to direct his course; and when he slept and dreamed, he saw ever the spirit clad in white, and holding forth to him the symbol in the similitude of a cross.

At last he came to a strange country—­a country so very different from his own that he could scarcely trust his senses.  Instead of the rugged mountains of the North, he saw a gentle landscape of velvety green; the trees were not pines and firs, but cypresses, cedars, and palms; instead of the cold, crisp air of his native land, he scented the perfumed zephyrs of the Orient; and the wind that filled the sail of his boat and smote his tanned cheeks was heavy and hot with the odor of cinnamon and spices.  The waters were calm and blue—­very different from the white and angry waves of Norss’s native fiord.