Page 49 - Poetry-Country

To the stout old wight, fair welcome to-night,
As the King of the Seasons all!

—Charles Dickens

Christmas Time

Heap on more wood!—the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will,
We’ll keep our Christmas merry still
Each age has deemed the new-born year
The fittest time for festal cheer
And well our Christian sires of old
Loved when the year its course had rolled,
And brought blithe Christmas back again,
With all his hospitable train.
Domestic and religious rite
Gave honor to the holy night:
On Christmas eve the bells were rung;
On Christmas eve the mass was sung;
That only night, in all the year.
Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear.
The damsel donned her kirtle sheen;
The hall was dressed with holly green;
Forth to the wood did merry-men go.
To gather in the mistletoe.
Then opened wide the baron’s hall
To vassal, tenant, serf, and all;

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