86
Christmas Hymn.
Bring wreaths, green wreaths, our joyful hands
Their glowing tints shall twine,
To celebrate our Saviour's birth,
The "Children's Friend" divine,
Who drew them to his favouring arms
When sterner souls forbade,
And kindly on his sheltering breast
Their heads reposing laid.
But He, the babe of Bethlehem slept
Uncradled and unsought,
No joyful bands with songs of praise
Sweet buds and blossoms brought,
But horned brutes, with heavy tread
Their manger's guest survey'd,
And stupid oxen watch'd the bed
Where Earth's Redeemer laid.
Sister, bring flowers! the winter-rose
Shall in our garland bloom
