The Real Story of "Silent Night"



















In an Austrian hamlet stand a little church

whose musical bells can be heard for miles

calling the people to worship.



SILENT NIGHT



A CHRISTMAS PRESENT FROM FRANZ GRUBER



Around Anno Domini 1802, a small town's organist

hand trained his choir for an oratorio

to be presented during Christmas Mass

for the edification of clergy and town folk alike.

***

On entering the choir loft for rehearsal one night

the merry singer troop stopped at a dismaying sight;

the organ bellows were gnawed straight through

by hungry mice! - now what to do?







Franz Gruber, the organist, was in utter despair,

He saw the bellows were beyond repair.

He trudged home through deep snow, swallowing many a tear;

there would be no music for Christmas, no carols, no cheer.

***

As he paced up and down in his room dejectedly

his eyes caught an out-of-tune, old and forgotten guitar,

but when he sadly plucked on its rusty strings

a tune seemed to come to him like on angel's wings.







Father Mohr felt empathy with Franz’s plight;

he offered to forge some lyrics and to stay overnight;

Suitable lyrics were wanted for the new song to be-

words that would nestle and flow with its melody.

***

They spent the night humming, singing,  and strumming,

jotting down notes, groping for rhyme and verse;

forgetting their cares and the very late hour,

they rested a minute and then resumed to rehearse.

***

When morning dawned there had been given birth

to a new song to be treasured by heaven and earth.

The church was packed, - the faithful with delight

heard for the very first time "SILENT NIGHT“.

***

On Christmas Eve each year, due homage is paid

to composer Franz Gruber, and a wreath is laid

On his grave in the city Hallein -a hallowed site

while the town brass band blows softly 'SILENT NIGHT".









My great-great-great-great-aunt was a soprano in Franz Gruber's choir and I was told she fainted when she saw....



My brother Karli, walks around

This grave to put on it the yearly wreath

On Holy Eve,  while brass and wood pipes sound,

Where “Silent Night's" composer  buried is.



So think of me dear friends on Holy Eve,

When "Silent Night" is ringing in your space

And lost my love, my husband dear and grieve

But give the new born Saviour laud and praise.















© Elizabeth Dandy







                                                                

      

  

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Ruth Lovejoy's picture

very interesting write