Littell's Living Age/Volume 128/Issue 1654/Christmas

by anon

For works with similar titles, see Christmas.

CHRISTMAS.

Under green boughs our Christmas keeping,
Bright berries fall, loved ones are sleeping,
Dark shadows on our hearth come creeping;
Christ bids us smile, but we are weeping.

He bids us smile, because He soweth
Our berries where His soft wind bloweth.
He saith, "Each one a fair tree groweth;"
We doubt, we hope: but our God knoweth.

M. E. S.⁠

⁠Spectator.