‘God bless, and happy Christmas, Charlotte, my love,’ he whispered as he closed his eyes and dreamed of Christmases past, and of the love that he and Charlotte had shared. ‘One in, one out,’ he muttered as he drifted off to sleep, thinking of Daniel sitting at the Christmas table. What the future held, they would have to wait and see, but whatever it was, he knew he’d never love another like his Lottie.

‘Noel: Christmas Eve 1913’ by Robert Seymour Bridges

‘Noel: Christmas Eve 1913’

by Robert Seymour Bridges

A frosty Christmas Eve

when the stars where shining

Fared I forth alone

where westward falls the hill,

And from many a village

in the water’d valley

Distant music reach’d me

peals of bells aringing:

The constellated sounds

ran sprinkling on earth’s floor

As the dark vault above

with stars was spangled o’er.

Then sped my thoughts to keep

that first Christmas of all

When the shepherds watching

by their folds ere the dawn

Heard music in the fields

and marvelling could not tell

Whether it were angels

or the bright stars singing.

Now blessed be the tow’rs

that crown England so fair

That stand up strong in prayer

unto God for our souls

Blessed be their founders

(said I) an’ our country folk

Who are ringing for Christ

in the belfries to-night

With arms lifted to clutch

the rattling ropes that race

Into the dark above

and the mad romping din.

But to me heard afar

it was starry music

Angels’ song, comforting

as the comfort of Christ

When he spake tenderly

to his sorrowful flock:

The old words came to me

by the riches of time

Mellow’d and transfigured

as I stood on the hill

Heark’ning in the aspect

of th’ eternal silence.

About the Author

Diane Allen was born in Leeds, but raised at her family’s farm deep in the Yorkshire Dales. After working as a glass engraver, raising a family and looking after an ill father, she found her true niche in life, joining a large-print publishing firm in 1990. She now concentrates on her writing full time, and has recently been made Honorary Vice President of the Romantic Novelists’ Association.

Diane and her husband Ronnie live in Long Preston, in the Yorkshire Dales, and have two children and four beautiful grandchildren.

By Diane Allen

By Diane Allen

For the Sake of Her Family

For a Mother’s Sins

For a Father’s Pride

Like Father, Like Son

The Mistress of Windfell Manor

The Windfell Family Secrets

Daughter of the Dales