For works with similar titles, see Christmas Bells.
CHRISTMAS BELLS.
I LOVE ye, wild and merry bells
Speaking of the bright golden past;
As o'er the dale ye sound so well
Thus borne on by the wint'ry blast;—
So softly through the evening air,
When the weary day is dying,
Ye Christmas bells sweep wild and clear
On the gentle breeze that's sighing!
Speaking of the bright golden past;
As o'er the dale ye sound so well
Thus borne on by the wint'ry blast;—
So softly through the evening air,
When the weary day is dying,
Ye Christmas bells sweep wild and clear
On the gentle breeze that's sighing!
Ye bear me back to childhood's hour,
To youth's unclouded happy day,
And boyhood's golden dreams of fame,
When grief or care were far away.
The hours of pleasure past and gone,
Bright hopes, alas! to come no more,—
Ye bear me back, oh! Christmas bells,
To the halcyon days of yore!
To youth's unclouded happy day,
And boyhood's golden dreams of fame,
When grief or care were far away.
The hours of pleasure past and gone,
Bright hopes, alas! to come no more,—
Ye bear me back, oh! Christmas bells,
To the halcyon days of yore!