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.

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.

Christmas is not a date. It is a state of mind.

Christmas is not a date. It is a state of mind.

Did you ever notice that life seems to follow certain patterns? Like I noticed that every year around this time, read more

Did you ever notice that life seems to follow certain patterns? Like I noticed that every year around this time, I hear Christmas music.

Somehow, not only for Christmas but all the long year through, The joy that you give to others Is the read more

Somehow, not only for Christmas but all the long year through, The joy that you give to others Is the joy that comes back to you. And the more you spend in blessing The poor and lonely and sad, The more of your heart's possessing Returns to you glad.

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!

The mistletoe hung in the castle hall,
The holly branch shone on the old oak wall.

The mistletoe hung in the castle hall,
The holly branch shone on the old oak wall.

It is Christmas in the heart that puts Christmas in the air.

It is Christmas in the heart that puts Christmas in the air.

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.