Out of the little chapel I burst Into the fresh night air again. I had waited a good five minutes first In the doorway, to escape the rain That drove in gusts down the common's centre,...
Saint Francis and Saint Benedight Blesse this house from wicked wight; From the night-mare and the goblin, That is hight good fellow Robin; Keep it from all evil spirits,...
When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago. And etched on vacant places, Are half forgotten faces...
Those who die on Christmas Day (I heard the triumphant Seraph say) Will be remembered, for they died Upon the Holy Christmastide; When they attain to Paradise, The Angels with the tranquil Eyes...
Oh, Lowbury pastor is fair and young, By far too good for a single life, And many a maiden, saith gossip's tongue, Would fain be Lowbury pastor's wife: So his book-marks are 'broidered in crimson and gold,...
A word of Godspeed and good cheer To all on earth, or far or near, Or friend or foe, or thine or mine - In echo of the voice divine, Heard when the star bloomed forth and lit...
Christmas comes but once a year. Though by nature snappy, Let us, as we may, appear Merry, friend, and happy! Buckle to; and when you meet your Thunderstricken fellow-creature,...
Sing, Christmas bells! Say to the earth this is the morn Whereon our Savior-King is born; Sing to all men,--the bond, the free, The rich, the poor, the high, the low,...
O day, the crown and crest of all the year! Thou comest not to us amid the snows, But midmost of the reign of the red rose; Our hearts have not yet lost the ancient cheer...
Dim dawn behind the tamerisks, the sky is saffron-yellow, As the women in the village grind the corn, And the parrots seek the riverside, each calling to his fellow That the Day, the staring Easter Day, is born....
The snow lies deep upon the ground, And winter's brightness all around Decks bravely out the forest sere, With jewels of the brave old year. The coasting crowd upon the hill...
This is the year that has no Christmas Day, Even the little children must be told That something sad is happening far away - Or, if you needs must play, As children must,...
He who by a mother's love Made the wandering world his own, Every year comes from above, Comes the parted to atone, Binding Earth to the Father's throne.
Cold my heart, and poor, and low, Like thy stable in the rock; Do not let it orphan go, It is of thy parent stock! Come thou in, and it will grow High and wide, a fane divine;...
But is old, old, good old Christmas gone? Nothing but the hair of his good, gray old head and beard left? Well, I will have that, seeing I cannot have more of him. - HUE AND CRY AFTER CHRISTMAS.