There's more, much more, to Christmas Than candlelight and cheer; It's the spirit of sweet friendship That brightens all year. read more

There's more, much more, to Christmas Than candlelight and cheer; It's the spirit of sweet friendship That brightens all year. It's thoughtfulness and kindness, It's hope reborn again, For peace, for understanding, And for goodwill to men!

Ring out ye crystal spheres!
Once bless our human ears,
If ye have power to touch our read more

Ring out ye crystal spheres!
Once bless our human ears,
If ye have power to touch our senses so;
And let your silver chime
Move in melodious time,
And let the bass of Heaven's deep organ blow;
And with your ninefold harmony
Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.

How bless'd, how envied, were our life,
Could we but scape the poulterer's knife!
But man, curs'd read more

How bless'd, how envied, were our life,
Could we but scape the poulterer's knife!
But man, curs'd man, on Turkeys preys,
And Christmas shortens all our days:
Sometimes with oysters we combine,
Sometimes assist the savory chine;
From the low peasant to the lord,
The Turkey smokes on every board.

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.

You can't get too much winter in the winter.

You can't get too much winter in the winter.

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.

Let's dance and sing and make good cheer,
For Christmas comes but once a year.

Let's dance and sing and make good cheer,
For Christmas comes but once a year.

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.

For little children everywhere
A joyous season still we make;
We bring our precious gifts to them,
read more

For little children everywhere
A joyous season still we make;
We bring our precious gifts to them,
Even for the dear child Jesus' sake.