 
Now that the time is come wherein Our Saviour Christ was born, The larders full of beef and pork, The garners filled with corn; As God hath plenty to thee sent, Take comfort of thy labors, And let it never thee repent To feast thy needy neighbors. The winter thorn Blossoms at Christmas, mindful of our Lord. Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, This bird of dawning singeth all night long: And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; The nights are wholesome,—then no planets strike, No fairy takes, no witch hath power to charm, So hallowed and so gracious is the time.
At Christmas play and make good cheer For Christmas comes but once a year. Extract from "The Sketch Book" |
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