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Christmas in Bethlehem. The ancient dream: a cold, clear night made brilliant by a glorious star, the smell of incense, read more
Christmas in Bethlehem. The ancient dream: a cold, clear night made brilliant by a glorious star, the smell of incense, shepherds and wise men falling to their knees in adoration of the sweet baby, the incarnation of perfect love.
It was the calm and silent night!
Seven hundred years and fifty-three
Had Rome been growing up read more
It was the calm and silent night!
Seven hundred years and fifty-three
Had Rome been growing up to might
And now was queen of land and sea.
No sound was heard of clashing wars,
Peace brooded o'er the hushed domain;
Apollo, Pallas, Jove and Mars,
Held undisturbed their ancient reign,
In the solemn midnight,
Centuries ago.
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
read more
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!
As I sat on a sunny bank
On Christmas day in the morning
I spied three ships read more
As I sat on a sunny bank
On Christmas day in the morning
I spied three ships come sailing in.
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.
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.
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.
There's nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child.
There's nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child.
At Christmas I no more desire a rose,
Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows;
But read more
At Christmas I no more desire a rose,
Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows;
But like of each thing that in season grows.