How sweet the brazen belfries chime Across the hills and through the dales, And o'er the breasts of meadowed vales, Beneath the smiles of Christmas time! Rough sorrow's thorny fingers grow...
The softest beams of the stars are born in the farthest skies, And fairest rays of the sun where evening shadows rise; The sweetest songs of the bird are sung in the darkest days,...
Dear songs of my country! How sweetly thy measures Come stealthily stealing o'er mountain and wave, To sweeten the riches of liberty's treasures And thrill with their numbers the hearts of the brave!...
Nature has a thousand choirs Singing in the sylvan shadows, And the music of her lyres Echoes in the merry meadows; Always glad with golden glee Sounds her happy melody,...
When Christmas comes, what pleasures spring From drooping hearts on happy wing, Like joyous birds that soaring rise From hidden coverts to the skies. And echo in the chimes that ring! ...