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A Christmas Lullaby
JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS Sleep, baby, sleep! T...

The Felling Of The Tree
A swift mountain-flood rolling down its channel; a hu...

Christmas
WASHINGTON IRVING But is old, old, good old Chri...

Keeping Christmas
Romans, xiv, 6: _He that regardeth the day, regardeth i...

Christmas Bells
JOHN KEBLE Wake me to-night, my mother dear,...

The History Of John Wildgoose
Thomas Wildgoose was an honest and hard-working man, in...

The Telltale Tile
OLIVE THORNE MILLER IT BEGINS with a bit of gossip...





The Christmas Carol






WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

The minstrels played their Christmas tune
To-night beneath my cottage eaves;
While, smitten by a lofty moon,
The encircling laurels, thick with leaves,
Gave back a rich and dazzling sheen
That overpowered their natural green.

Through hill and valley every breeze
Had sunk to rest, with folded wings:
Keen was the air, but could not freeze
Nor check the music of the strings;
So stout and hardy were the band
That scraped the chords with strenuous hand!

And who but listened--till was paid
Respect to every inmate's claim:
The greeting given, the music played,
In honor of each household name,
Duly pronounced with lusty call,
And Merry Christmas wished to all!

How touching, when, at midnight, sweep
Snow-muffled winds, and all is dark,
To hear, and sink again to sleep!
Or, at an earlier call, to mark
By blazing fire, the still suspense
Of self-complacent innocence;

The mutual nod,--the grave disguise
Of hearts with gladness brimming o'er;
And some unbidden tears that rise
For names once heard, and heard no more;
Tears brightened by the serenade
For infant in the cradle laid.

Hail ancient Manners! sure defence,
Where they survive, of wholesome laws;
Remnants of love whose modest sense
Thus into narrow room withdraws;
Hail, Usages of pristine mould,
And ye that guard them, Mountains old!





Next: Christmas At Fezziwig's Warehouse

Previous: The Birth Of Christ



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