From The Tacoma Times, December 25, 1912. By Berton Braley. Diverse feasts upon his golden plate And Lazarus is at his gate, The same starved beggar whom we know From nineteen hundred years ago, In reeking slum and tenement, The children whimper, wan and spent, And hunger-sharpened tongues deride The mockery of Christmas-tide, And mothers weep in woe forlorn— Was it for this that Christ was born? In flaring light and glaring hall Vice holds her strident carnival, And mortals fight and steal and lie For gold to join this revel high; Men sell their truth, their souls, their fame, And women know the taint of shame By greed and passion downward whirled Along the Highway of the World; And true men cry, in wrath and scorn, “Was it for this that Christ was born?” And yet—though toilers taste distress While wasters roll in idleness, Though Mammon seems to hold in sway The people of this later day, It is but seeming—truth and right Are leading all the world to light, And old abuses fall to dust Before our new-born faith and trust. We are not heedless—Christmas chimes Ring the true spirit of the times, Of “Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men,” Brave words that thrill and thrill again, For in the deeps of every heart The little flames of fervor start, And grow and grow until we burn All bitter wrongs to overturn, Till all the world we’re children of Shall know the perfect rule of Love! Ah Gentle Savior, pierced and torn, It was for THIS that You were born!