Hail to the King of Bethlehem,
Who weareth in his diadem
The yellow crocus for the gem
read more

Hail to the King of Bethlehem,
Who weareth in his diadem
The yellow crocus for the gem
Of his authority!

No trumpet-blast profound
The hour in which the Prince of Peace was born;
No bloody streamlet stained
read more

No trumpet-blast profound
The hour in which the Prince of Peace was born;
No bloody streamlet stained
Earth's silver rivers on the sacred morn.

I have always thought of Christmas as a good time; a kind, forgiving, generous, pleasant time; a time when men read more

I have always thought of Christmas as a good time; a kind, forgiving, generous, pleasant time; a time when men and women seem to open their hearts freely, and so I say, God bless Christmas!

Christmas is for children. But it is for grown-ups too. Even if
it is a headache, a chore, and read more

Christmas is for children. But it is for grown-ups too. Even if
it is a headache, a chore, and a nightmare, it is a period of
necessary defrosting of chilled hidebound hearts.

My Christmas present to myself each year is to see how much air travel can open up the world and read more

My Christmas present to myself each year is to see how much air travel can open up the world and take me to places as far from sheltered California and Japan as possible.

As many mince pies as you taste at Christmas' so many happy
months will you have.

As many mince pies as you taste at Christmas' so many happy
months will you have.

Christmas is here:
Winds whistle shrill,
Icy and chill,
Little care we:
read more

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

Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.

Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.

When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, we hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago, read more

When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, we hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago, and etched on vacant places are half-forgotten faces of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know.