255
Oh! the Ice-king's reign is dreary!
But though dreary without—'tis glad within,
For now the Christmas sports begin,
With merry meetings of kith and kin,
And hearts so light and cheery—
The wintry eves we will e'en prolong
With the bounding dance, and the festive song,
And the ancient goblin-story:
The great yule-log on the hearth shall blaze,
And old gossips chat of their by-gone days,
And England's Christmas glory;
The Holly's bright leaves and berries red
In wreaths o'er the picture-frames bespread,
And the Misletoe-bough above them,
For maidens who covet, yet seem to dread,
A kiss from the lips who love them.
Farewell to the year!—the fair young Spring
In Summer's glow did vanish;
Autumn fled from the stern Ice-king,
Whom Spring again will banish.
THE END.
