O Christmas, merry Christmas! 'Tis not so very long Since other voices blended With the carol and the song! If we could but hear them singing As they are singing now, If we could but see the radiance Of the crown on each dear brow; There would be no sigh to smother, No hidden tear to flow, As we listen in the starlight To the "bells across the snow." O Christmas, merry Christmas! This never more can be; We cannot bring again the days Of our unshadowed glee. But Christmas, happy Christmas, Sweet herald of good-will, With holy songs of glory Brings holy gladness still. For peace and hope may brighten, And patient love may glow, As we listen in the starlight To the "bells across the snow." * * * * * CHRISTMAS BELLS HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, And wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men! And thought how, as the day had come, The belfries of all Christendom Had rolled along The unbroken song Of peace on earth, good-will to men! Till, ringing, swinging on its way, The world revolved from night to day A voice, a chime, A chant sublime Of peace on earth, good-will to men! Then from each black, accursed mouth The cannon thundered in the South And with the sound The carols drowned Of peace on earth, good-will to men! It was as if an earthquake rent The hearth-stones of a continent, And made forlorn The households born Of peace on earth, good-will to men! And in despair I bowed my head; "There is no peace on earth," I said; "For hate is strong And mocks the song Of peace on earth, good-will to men!" Then pealed the bells more loud and deep. "God is not dead; nor doth He sleep! The Wrong shall fail, The Right prevail, With peace on earth, good-will to men!" * * * * * MINSTRELS AND MAIDS WILLIAM MORRIS Outlanders, whence come ye last? _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ Through what green seas and great have ye past? _Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._ From far away, O masters mine, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ We come to bear you goodly wine, _Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._ From far away we come to you, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ To tell of great tidings strange and true, _Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._ News, news of the Trinity, _The snow in the street and the wind on the door._ And Mary and Joseph from over the sea! _Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._