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A Christmas Piece
Of garnered rhyme, from hidden stores of olden time tha...

Merry Christmas
ANON In the rush of the merry morning, ...

Mr Bluffs Experiences Of Holidays
OLIVER BELL BUNCE I hate holidays, said Bachelor Blu...

A Christmas Dream And How It Came True
"I'm so tired of Christmas I wish there never would b...

Santa Claus
ANON He comes in the night! He comes in the ...

To The Fir-tree
FROM THE GERMAN O Fir-tree green! O Fir-tree...

The Boar's Head Carol
(Sung at Queen's College, Oxford.) The boar'...

An Ode On The Birth Of Our Saviour

ROBERT HERRICK

In numbers, and but these few,
I sing thy birth, O Jesu!
Thou pretty baby, born here
With sup'rabundant scorn here;
Who for thy princely port here,
Hadst for thy place
Of birth, a base
Out-stable for thy court here.

Instead of neat enclosures
Of interwoven osiers,
Instead of fragrant posies
Of daffodils and roses,
Thy cradle, kingly stranger,
As gospel tells,
Was nothing else
But here a homely manger.

But we with silks, not crewels,
With sundry precious jewels,
And lily work will dress thee,
And, as we dispossess thee
Of clouts, we'll make a chamber,
Sweet babe, for thee
Of ivory,
And plaster'd round with amber.





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Previous: Cradle Hymn

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