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Song Of The Holly
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE Blow, blow thou wint...

O Little Town Of Bethlehem
PHILLIPS BROOKS O little town of Bethlehem, ...

The Christmas Masquerade
MARY E. WILKINS FREEMAN ON Christmas Eve the Mayor...

Little Roger's Night In The Church
SUSAN COOLIDGE The boys and girls had fastened the l...

The Angels
WILLIAM DRUMMOND Run, shepherds, run where B...

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





The Mahogany-tree






WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY

Christmas is here;
Winds whistle shrill,
Icy and chill,
Little care we;
Little we fear
Weather without,
Sheltered about
The Mahogany-Tree.

Once on the boughs
Birds of rare plume
Sang in its bloom;
Night-birds are we;
Here we carouse,
Singing, like them,
Perched round the stem
Of the jolly old tree.

Here let us sport,
Boys, as we sit--
Laughter and wit
Flashing so free.
Life is but short--
When we are gone,
Let them sing on,
Round the old tree.

Evenings we knew,
Happy as this;
Faces we miss,
Pleasant to see.
Kind hearts and true,
Gentle and just,
Peace to your dust!
We sing round the tree.

Care like a dun,
Lurks at the gate;
Let the dog wait;
Happy we'll be!
Drink, every one;
Pile up the coals;
Fill the red bowls,
Round the old tree!

Drain we the cup.--
Friend, art afraid?
Spirits are laid
In the Red Sea.
Mantle it up;
Empty it yet;
Let us forget,
Round the old tree!

Sorrows begone!
Life and its ills,
Duns and their bills,
Bid we to flee.
Come with the dawn,
Blue-devil sprite;
Leave us to-night,
Round the old tree!





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