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The Queerest Christmas
GRACE MARGARET GALLAHER BETTY stood at her door, g...

Christmas Song
EDMUND HAMILTON SEARS Calm on the listening ...

The Spirit Of Christmas
From Pickwick Papers. CHARLES DICKENS And numerou...

An Offertory
MARY MAPES DODGE Oh, the beauty of the Chris...

Christmas Waits In Boston
I. I always give myself a Christmas present. And o...

An Ode On The Birth Of Our Saviour
ROBERT HERRICK In numbers, and but these few...

The Waits
MARGARET DELAND At the break of Christmas Da...





The Shepherds






WILLIAM DRUMMOND, OF HAWTHORNDEN

O than the fairest day, thrice fairer night!
Night to blest days in which a sun doth rise
Of which that golden eye which clears the skies
Is but a sparkling ray, a shadow-light!
And blessed ye, in silly pastor's sight,
Mild creatures, in whose warm crib now lies
That heaven-sent youngling, holy-maid-born wight,
Midst, end, beginning of our prophecies!

Blest cottage that hath flowers in winter spread,
Though withered--blessed grass that hath the grace
To deck and be a carpet to that place!
Thus sang, unto the sounds of oaten reed,
Before the Babe, the shepherds bowed on knees;
And springs ran nectar, honey dropped from trees.





Next: A Christmas Carol

Previous: The Glad Evangel



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