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December
HARRIET F. BLODGETT I Oh! holly branc...

Toinette And The Elves
SUSAN COOLIDGE THE winter's sun was nearing the ho...

A Visit From St Nicholas
CLEMENT C. MOORE 'Twas the night before Chri...

The Fir-tree
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN OUT in the woods stood a n...

A Ballade Of Old Loves
CAROLYN WELLS Who is it stands on the polish...

The Shadow Of The Thunder-oak
Withered leaves still clung to the branches of th...

Christmas
NAHUM TATE While shepherds watch'd their flo...





A Christmas Song






WILLIAM COX BENNETT

Blow, wind, blow,
Sing through yard and shroud;
Pipe it shrilly and loud,
Aloft as well as below;
Sing in my sailor's ear
The song I sing to you,
Come home, my sailor true,
For Christmas that comes so near.

Go, wind, go,
Hurry his home-bound sail,
Through gusts that are edged with hail,
Through winter, and sleet, and snow;
Song, in my sailor's ear,
Your shrilling and moans shall be,
For he knows they sing him to me
And Christmas that comes so near.





Next: Sery

Previous: On Good Wishes At Christmas



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