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

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

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
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I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Christmas is the season for kindling the fire of hospitality in the hall, the genial flame of charity in the read more

Christmas is the season for kindling the fire of hospitality in the hall, the genial flame of charity in the heart.

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 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.

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 Eve was a night of song that wrapped itself about you like a shawl. But it warmed more than read more

Christmas Eve was a night of song that wrapped itself about you like a shawl. But it warmed more than your body. It warmed your heart... filled it, too, with melody that would last forever.

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.

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