Christmas. Poem by William Billington

OLD Christmas cometh round
With the snow of ages crowned,
And the weight of one more winter on his brow;
As he sits enthroned sublime
On the hoary crest of Time,
See the welcoming world before him bow!

Let us hail him as of yore,
When his saintly visage wore,
To our boyish minds, a smile of boundless bliss;
Let us greet him as of old,
When the lords and barons bold
Strewed his footprints with flowers of happiness.

Hark! the merry midnight bells!
How their rapture-laden swells,
And their musically-modulated falls
Scatter Christmas Carols round
With a sweet and holy sound,
Waking palace, castle, cottages, and halls!

While the berried holly blushes
'Twixt the bay and laurel bushes,
Crowning Christmas the king of festal mirth,
Let roast beef and brown beer,
And plum pudding be our cheer,
And of music, song, and dance, be there no dearth.

While her stock of Fairy Tales
With the granddame never fails,
Nor the music-laugh of wee ones, let our toast
Be 'The Future and the Past,'
And let the reign of Christmas last
Till this old decrepit Year gives up the ghost!

Then with loyal hearts and true
We'll the task of life renew,
And what we can for brother man we'll do;
To further every movement
Tending to the world's improvement,
Let us love and labour-hope and struggle too.

Let the largest and the least
Sit together at our feast;
Let the poor be not forgotten, but forgiven
Be every grudge and wrong,
While each happy, love-tuned tongue
Riseth jubilant in homage-strains to heaven!

And when Christmas cometh round
With the snow of ages crowned,
And another winter's weight upon his brow,
May we meet on Life's high road,
Twelve months' travel nigher God
With this world more wise and better than 'tis now.