Get the Ricochet app
Ricochet will work fine in a browser on your mobile devices, but for the best experience please download our app.

The Ricochet Podcast
3 Whisky Happy Hour
Beyond the Polls
GLoP Culture
Chicks on The Right
3 Martini Lunch
Federalist Radio Hour
What the Hell Is Going On
Parsing Immigration Policy
Freedom to Learn
Daily Signal
The Erick Erickson Show
Not Dead Yet
Heritage Explains
Call Me Back - with Dan Senor
The Learning Curve
The American Idea
Madison’s Notes
The Radio Free Hillsdale Hour
Hillsdale Dialogues
Mom Wars
Conservative Crossroads with Henry Olsen
The Conservative Woman’s Guide
Law Talk with Epstein, Yoo & Cooke
Giving Ventures
Who Funds that?
The Back of the Book
The Kevin Roberts Show with Larry O’Connor
Gray Matters
The Report Card with Nat Malkus
The Glenn Show
The Libertarian
Martini Shot
The Dave Carter Show
The Powerline Show
In Dissent
Heard at Heritage
Smart Girl Politics
James Lileks’ The Diner
Case in Point: The Legal Show on the Hottest Legal Cases in Politics and Culture
JobMakers
One on One with Robert DoarRicochet will work fine in a browser on your mobile devices, but for the best experience please download our app.
This poem appeared in Kipling’s book Rewards and Fairies, a children’s book. It opened the story “The Conversion of St. Wilfrid.” I think we can include it as doggerel for the purposes of Doggerel of the Day. It was not written as great poetry. It is one of the finest Christmas poems I know, so I thought to run it today.
Rudyard Kipling
(A.D. 687)
Eddi, priest of St. Wilfrid
In his chapel at Manhood End,
Ordered a midnight service
For such as cared to attend.
But the Saxons were keeping Christmas,
And the night was stormy as well.
Nobody came to service,
Though Eddi rang the bell.
"'Wicked weather for walking,"
Said Eddi of Manhood End.
"But I must go on with the service
For such as care to attend."
The altar-lamps were lighted, --
An old marsh-donkey came,
Bold as a guest invited,
And stared at the guttering flame.
The storm beat on at the windows,
The water splashed on the floor,
And a wet, yoke-weary bullock
Pushed in through the open door.
"How do I know what is greatest,
How do I know what is least?
That is My Father's business,"
Said Eddi, Wilfrid's priest.
"But -- three are gathered together --
Listen to me and attend.
I bring good news, my brethren!"
Said Eddi of Manhood End.
And he told the Ox of a Manger
And a Stall in Bethlehem,
And he spoke to the Ass of a Rider,
That rode to Jerusalem.
They steamed and dripped in the chancel,
They listened and never stirred,
While, just as though they were Bishops,
Eddi preached them The Word,
Till the gale blew off on the marshes
And the windows showed the day,
And the Ox and the Ass together
Wheeled and clattered away.
And when the Saxons mocked him,
Said Eddi of Manhood End,
"I dare not shut His chapel
On such as care to attend."
Recommended by MembersThis post was promoted to the Main Feed at the recommendation of Ricochet's members.
Discussion (8)
To read this bio, please join Ricochet.
I like it! Thanks!
CHARTER MEMBER
To read this bio, please join Ricochet.
Based on rhyme and context, I'm guessing the last word of the ninth stanza is word, not world.
I haven't read much Kipling, other than Copybook Headings. Based on this, and that, I think I'll look him up.
CONTRIBUTOR
To read this bio, please join Ricochet.
Agree. Changed.
To read this bio, please join Ricochet.
Probably, but I like world there as well.
To read this bio, please join Ricochet.
Splendid.
I never really thought twice about Kipling until I joined here at ricochet. (Except for his poem on Gunga Din.)
He is a worthy member of English literary greats. And this Christmas poem is a wonderful discovery thanks to you Seawriter.
You're seeing five of eight comments. Sign in, or join for just $5 per month, to read them all and add your own.