Love came down at Christmas, Love all lovely, Love Divine; Love was born at Christmas; Star and angels gave the sign.
Interpretation
The quote expresses the profound and divine nature of love that associates with Christmas and its significance.
This quote by Christina Rossetti highlights the idea that Christmas is the moment when love, described as both lovely and divine, is manifested in the world. It suggests that the birth of love, symbolized by the birth of Jesus, is marked by the signs of celestial beings and that the essence of love is central to the Christmas celebration.
In practice
A speech at a holiday gathering focusing on the spirit of love during Christmas.
When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet: And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply I may forget.
We must not look at goblin men, We must not buy their fruits: Who knows upon what soil they fed Their hungry thirsty roots?
To her whose heart is my heart's quiet home,_x000D_ _x000D_ To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee_x000D_ _x000D_ I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome.
Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death; Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago
Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart; My silent heart, lie still and break: Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed For a dream's sake.
I lock my door upon myself, And bar them out; but who shall wall Self from myself, most loathed of all?
Young poets bewail the passing of love; old poets, the passing of time. There is surprisingly little difference.
You are the drop,and the ocean you are kindness,you are anger, you are sweetness,you are poison. Do not make me more disheartened. you are the chamber of the sun, you are the abode of venus, you are the garden of all hope. Oh, Beloved, let me enter.
He takes her in his arms He wants to say I love you, nothing can hurt you But he thinks this is a lie, so he says in the end You're dead, nothing can hurt you which seems to him a more promising beginning, more true.
Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving, seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly, that, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me.
You don't want to live your life and then meet someone. You want to share your life with someone. That's what I'm missing right now.
Every story is a story about death. But perhaps, if we are lucky, our story about death is also a story about love.
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