On your psalteries play, That sweet luck may
Come while the log is a-teending.
Drink now the strong beer,
Cut the white loaf here,
The while the meat is a-shredding;
For the rare mince-pie,
And the plums stand by,
To fill the paste that's a-kneading. ROBERT HERRICK.
Christmas in England.
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 deem'd the new-born year The fittest time for festal cheer; Even, heathen yet, the savage Dane At Iol more deep the mead did drain; High on the beach his galleys drew, And feasted all his pirate crew.
England was merry England when Old Christmas brought his sports again. "Twas Christmas broached the mightiest ale; 'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;
A Christmas gambol oft could cheer The poor man's heart through half the year. 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 in 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. Power laid his rod of rule aside, And Ceremony doffed his pride. The heir, with roses in his shoes, That night might village partner choose; The lord, underogating, share
The vulgar game of " Post and pair." All hailed with uncontrolled delight And general voice the happy night, That to the cottage, as the crown, Brought tidings of salvation down.
Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long: And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
Brightest and Best of the Sons of the Morning Brightest and best of the Sons of the morning! Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid! Star of the East, the horizon adorning,
Guide where our Infant Redeemer is laid!
Cold on His cradle the dewdrops are shining, Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall;
Angels adore Him in slumber reclining,
Maker and Monarch and Saviour of all!
Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion, Odors of Edom and offerings divine?
Gems of the mountain and pearls of the ocean, Myrrh from the forest, or gold from the
The Vainly we offer each ample oblation; Glad Evangel
Vainly with gifts would His favor secure: Richer by far is the heart's adoration;
Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor.
Brightest and best of the Sons of the morning! Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid!
Star of the East, the horizon adorning,
Guide where our Infant Redeemer is laid!
ADDISON, JOSEPH [1672-1719]: The Spacious Firmament on High, 54.
ALDRICH, THOMAS BAILEY [1836-]: Maple Leaves, 17; Before the Rain, 31; Tiger-Lilies, 71; A Turkish Legend, 611.
ALEXANDER, CECIL FRANCES [1830-1895]: The Burial of Moses, 504.
WILLIAM [1824-1889]: Rose, 70; The Fairy Folk, 174; Blowing Bubbles, 195; Windlass Song, 268; The Abbot of Inisfalen, 474. ANDERSON, Doon, 126.
ALEXANDER [1845-]: Cuddle
ARNOLD, EDWIN [1831—]: Almond Blossom, 69. ARNOLD, GEORGE [1834-1865]: Sweet Septem- ber, 15.
ARNOLD, MATTHEW [1822-1888]: The Forsaken Merman, 444.
AUSTIN, ALFRED [1835-]: To America, 347. AYTOUN, WILLIAM EDMONDSTOUNE [1813- 1865]: The Old Scottish Cavalier, 281.
BALLADS, OLD: Sir Patrick Spens, 551; The Bailiff's Daughter of Islington, 555; King John and the Abbot of Canterbury, 558; Lord Beichan and Susie Pye, 563; The Gay Gos-hawk, 569; Earl
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