T was the winter wild,

While the heaven-born child

All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies:

Nature, in awe to him

Had doff'd her gaudy trim,

With her great Master so to sympathize:

It was no season then for her

To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour.

Only with speeches fair

She wooes the gentle air

To hide her guilty front with innocent snow:

And on her naked shame,

Pollute with sinful blame,

The saintly veil of maiden white to throw;

Confounded, that her Maker's eyes

Should look so near upon her foul deformities.

But he, her fears to cease,

Sent down the meek-ey'd Peace;

She, crowned with olives green, came softly sliding

Down through the turning sphere

His ready harbinger,

With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing;

And, waving wide her myrtle wand,

She strikes a universal peace through sea and land.

No war or battle's sound,

Was heard the world around;

The idle spear and shield were high up hung,

The hooked chariot stood,

Unstained with hostile blood;

The trumpet spake not to the armed throng;

And kings sat still with awful eye,

As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by.

But peaceful was the night,

Wherein the Prince of light

His reign of Peace upon the earth began:

The winds with wonder whist

Smoothly the waters kist,

Whispering new joys to the mild ocean,

Who now hath quite forgot to rave,

While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.

Milton.

ARK! how all the welkin rings,

Glory to the King of kings!

Peace on earth, and mercy mild,

God and sinner reconciled!

Joyful, all ye nations, rise,

Join the triumph of the skies;

Universal nature say,

Christ the Lord is born to-day.

Christ, by highest heaven adored;

Christ, the everlasting Lord;

Late in time behold Him come,

Offspring of a Virgin's womb;

Veil'd in flesh and Godhead see;

Hail, th' Incarnate Deity!

Pleased as man with men t' appear,

Jesus, our Immanuel here!

Hail! the heavenly Prince of Peace!

Hail! the Sun of Righteousness!

Light and life to all He brings,

Risen with healing in His wings.

Mild He lays His glory by,

Born that man no more may die,

Born to raise the sons of earth,

Born to give them second birth.

Charles Wesley.

OD rest ye, merry gentlemen; let

nothing you dismay,

For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born

on Christmas-day.

The dawn rose red o'er Bethlehem,

the stars shone through the gray,

When Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born

on Christmas-day.

God rest ye, little children; let nothing you

affright,

For Jesus Christ, your Saviour, was born this

happy night:

Along the hills of Galilee the white flocks sleeping

lay,

When Christ, the Child of Nazareth, was born on

Christmas-day.

God rest ye, all good Christians; upon this blessed

morn

The Lord of all good Christians was of a woman

born:

Now all your sorrows He doth heal, your sins He

takes away;

For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on

Christmas-day.

Dinah Maria Mulock.

E who have scorn'd each other

Or injured friend or brother,

In this fast fading year;

Ye who, by word or deed,

Hath made a kind heart bleed,

Come gather here.

Let sinn'd against and sinning,

Forget their strife's beginning;

Be links no longer broken,

Be sweet forgiveness spoken,

Under the holly bough.

Ye who have lov'd each other,

Sister and friend and brother,

In this fast fading year:

Mother, and sire, and child,

Young man and maiden mild,

Come gather here;

And let your hearts grow fonder,

As memory shall ponder

Each past unbroken vow.

Old loves and younger wooing,

Are sweet in the renewing,

Under the holly bough.

Ye who have nourished sadness,

Estranged from hope and gladness,

In this fast fading year.

Ye with o'er-burdened mind

Made aliens from your kind,

Come gather here.

OME all you weary wanderers

Beneath the wintry sky,

This day forget your worldly cares,

And lay your sorrows by:

Awake and sing

The church bells ring,

For this is Christmas morning!

With grateful hearts salute the morn,

And swell the streams of song,

That laden with great joy are borne,

The willing air along;

The tidings thrill

With right good will,

For this is Christmas morning!

We'll twine the fresh green holly wreath,

And make the yule-log glow;

And gather gaily underneath

The winking mistletoe;

All blythe and bright

By the glad fire light,

For this is Christmas morning!

Come, sing the carols old and true,

That mind us of good cheer,

And like a heavenly fall of dew,

Revive the drooping year,

And fill us up

A wassail cup,

For this is Christmas morning!

N the rush of the merry morning

When the red burns through the gray,

And the wintry world lies waiting

For the glory of the day;

Then we hear a fitful rushing

Just without upon the stair,

See two white phantoms coming,

Catch the gleam of sunny hair.

Are they Christmas fairies stealing

Rows of little socks to fill?

Are they angels floating hither

With their message of good-will?

What sweet spell are these elves weaving,

As like larks they chirp and sing?

Are these palms of peace from heaven

That these lovely spirits bring?

Rosy feet upon the threshold,

Eager faces peeping through,

With the first red ray of sunshine,

Chanting cherubs come in view;

Mistletoe and gleaming holly,

Symbols of a blessed day,

In their chubby hands they carry,

Streaming all along the way.

HRISTMAS 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.