I stumbled upon this author. I was reading one of the
Vision Books for young readers,
Irish Saints by Robert T. Reilly, and there was an excerpt of a poem from
A Treasury of Irish Saints A Book of Poems. It was really intriguing and after reading that first volume I made it a mission to try and track down everything Irvine published. At first my dyslexia had me thinking it was John Irving, and I have read a few of his fiction books. But some quick searching put that idea to rest. This author John Irvine lived from 1903-1965. This volume was originally published in1941.
I am thankful to the
National Library of Ireland and their scanning service. Without which I would have read but one volume from this excellent Irish poet. I appreciate that they will scan out of print and out of copyright works. Especially when I cannot find them almost anywhere else, like most of the works or Irvine. This volume will mark the thirteenth I have read by Irvine. This is the earlies volume I have found published by Irvine, and it was published under the name J. Pennington Irvine. I have not found any others published under that name.
About the author on a site with information about Irish authors states:
“John Irvine was born in Belfast and published several collections of poems: A Voice in the Dark, 1932; Willow Leaves: Lyrics in the Manner of the Early Chinese Poets,1941; Lost Sanctuary and other poems among others. He edited The Flowering Branch: An Anthology of Irish Poetry Past and Present.”
Another online description of the author states:
“Irvine, born in Belfast, published about six collections of lyrics between 1932 and 1954, mostly from small presses in Belfast and Dublin. He also edited an anthology of Irish poetry, The Flowering Branch.”
This volume begins with a quote from Irvine:
“He that seeks beauty will surely
find it, but he that is content
with the dross will never rise
above it.”
This book has a long acknowledgements section at the beginning, thanking authors, publishers, and speaking to 2 he could not confirm rights for after many attempts.
The forward states:
“Within this little volume will be found a collection of seasonable poems which have been chosen not for their religious appeal more than their poetic beauty.. My great difficulty has been in selecting a sufficient number of the less widely known pieces appropriate to the season.
I have endeavoured to be as comprehensive as possible, including suitable poems from the earliest times until the present day.
The fruits of my gathering will be found in the following pages, and I trust that my readers will find them acceptable.”
The poems and contributors in this volume are:
Mary’s Song to Jesus - Padrir: Gregory
The Birds - Hilaire Belloc
New Year's Eve, 1913 - Gordon Bottomley
Old English Carol - Traditional
The Little Lord Jesus - Martin Luther
Christmas - E. Hilton Young
A Child of the Snows - G, K. Chesterton
The Holy Tide - Frederick Tennyson
Christmas Sonnet - J. Pennington Irvine
Children's Song of the Nativity - English Traditional
A Child's Carol - J. Pennington Irvine
The Crown of Roses - (Russian) Plechtcheev. Tr.G.D.
To A Snowflake - Francis Thompson
Hoc Die Dominus Noster Nascitur - Padric Gregory
That Holy Thing - George MacDonald
Christmas Rede - Jane Barlow
The Lowly One - W. Earle
Silent Night - Joseph Mohr
Lines from "In Memoriam" - Lord Alfred Tennyson
The Oxen - Thomas Hardy
Hymn to the Nativity - Richard Crashaw
The Mistletoe Bough - Rev. T. G. Crippen
Fragment - Shakespeare
The House of Christmas - G. K. Chesterton
The Star of Bethlehem - Author Unknown
Noel: Christmas Eve, 1913 - Robert Bridges
The Lonely Child – Ruckert (From the German)
The 27 poems vary greatly in length. This is the second volume I have read that was edited by John Irvine. I have read 13 volumes that were written by Irvine, and believe that there are another 5 volumes edited by Irvine, including this earliest written or edited by him published under the name J. Pennington Irvine.
A few sample poems from this volume are:
Christmas
A boy was born at Bethlehem
that knew the haunts of Galilee.
He wandered on Mount Lebanon,
and learned to love each forest tree.
But I was born at Marlborough,
and love the hom~ly faces there;
and for all other men besides
'tis little love I have to spare.
I should not mind to die for them,
my own dear downs, my comrades true.
But that great heart of Bethlehem,
He died for men He never knew.
And yet, I think, at Golgotha,
as Jesus' eyes were closed in death,
they saw with love most passionate
the village street at Nazareth.
-E. Hilton Young.
Christmas Sonnet
They cast Thy mother forth into the night,
Into the bitter night and frosty air:
Nor was there one took pity on her plight
To bid her rest, in warmth, and shelter there.
They cast her forth, with tired and aching feet;
And to that lowly stable place she fled,
.Yet uncomplaining, found it strangely sweet
Upon the hay, to rest her weary head.
In this poor humble place Thou had'st Thy birth'.!
Outcast and homeless in an ox's stall!
'Twas there Thine eyes beheld the light of earth;
Rejected Thou by men, Oh ! Lord of all
Cast us not forth when we, with dying eyes,
Behold Thee at the gates of Paradise.
-J. Pennington Irvine.
A Child's Carol
In a rude and Jowly manger
Sheltered from the frost and snow,
Lay the Holy Infant Jesus
On a morning long ago.
Whilst around the humble dwelling
Cold and wintry winds did sigh,
Mary soothed the Babe so helpless,
Sang a tender lullaby.
Angel voices from the Heavens
On that happy Christmas morn,
Sang, and all the earth was joyful
When the Saviour Christ was born.
-J. Pennington Irvine.
The Lowly One
Only a manger cold and bare,
When winter winds did blow;
Yet Christ the Lord was housed there
Amid the winter snow.
No royal pomp did Him proclaim;
But cradled in the hay,
Where only ox and ass had lain,
The sleeping Infant lay.
No courtiers did his praises sing;
But Seraphs from the skies
Poured forth their welcome to the King,
With songs of Paradise.
He came the King of Kings to be;
And Mary in the manger bore
A Child who reigns o'er earth and sea,
Till time shall be no more.
-W. Earle.
The Oxen
Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock,
"Now they are all on their knees,"
An elder said as we sat in a flock
By the embers in hearthside ease.
We pictured the meek:, mild creatures where
They dwelt in their strawy pen,
Nor did it occur to one of us there
To doubt they were kneeling then.
So fair a fancy few would weave
In these years! Yet, I feel,
If some one said on Christmas Eve,
"Come ; see the oxen kneel."
"In the lonely barton by yonder coomb
Our childhood used to know,''
I should go with him in the gloom,
Hoping it might be so.
-Thomas Hardy.
I hope those poems give you a feel for the collection of 27. This is an interesting collection. This volume ends with another quote from Irvine:
“L'Envoi.
Dying now the fir elight glow,
And flickering the candle's light ,
All things are fast asleep, and so,
Kind readers one and all-Goodnight.”
I did enjoy this volume.
The National Library of Ireland provided a scanned copy as the book is out of print and out of copyright. It is interesting to see what poems Irvine collected, and having read much of his lately, a few could have been by his pen. I only recognize a few of the contributors. And as such was pleasantly surprised by many of the poems. We are not given bios of the contributors, nor even when the pieces were first published. I would have appreciated those details. It is a volume I know I will return to again, likely next Advent.
