Not he! for he loveth the children; And holiday begs for all; And comes with his pockets full of gifts, For the great ones and the small! With a present for every servant;-- For in giving he doth not tire;-- From the red-faced, jovial butler, To the girl by the kitchen-fire. And he tells us witty old stories, And singeth with might and main; And we talk of the old man’s visit Till the day that he comes again! Oh he is a kind old fellow, For though that beef be dear, He giveth the parish paupers A good dinner once a year! And all the workhouse children He sets them down in a row, And giveth them rare plum-pudding, And two-pence a piece also. Oh, could you have seen those paupers, Have heard those children young, You would wish with them that Christmas Came oft and tarried long! He must be a rich old fellow,-- What money he gives away! There is not a lord in England Could equal him any day! Good luck unto old Christmas, And long life, let us sing, For he doth more good unto the poor Than many a crowned king! THE TWELFTH HOUR. My friends, the spirit is at peace; Oh do not trouble me with tears; Petition rather my release, Nor covet for me length of years, Which are but weariness and woe; Resign me friends, before I go! I know how strong are human ties; I know how strong is human fear! But visions open to mine eyes, And words of power are in mine ear; My friends, my friends, can ye not see, Nor hear what voices speak to me? “Thou human soul,” they seem to say, “We are commissioned from above, Through the dark portal to convey Thee to the paradise of love; Thou needest not shrink, thou need’st not fear; We, thy sure help, are gathered near! “Thy weakness on our strength confide; Thy doubt upon our steadfast trust; And rise up, pure and glorified, From thine infirm and sinful dust, Rise up, rise up! the eternal day Begins to dawn--why wilt thou stay? “Look forth--the day begins to dawn; The future openeth to thy view; The veil of mystery is undrawn; The old things are becoming new; The night of time is passing by: Poor trembler, do not fear to die! “Come, come! the gates of pearl unfold: The eternal glory shines on thee; Body, relax thy lingering hold, And set the struggling spirit free!” ’Tis done, ’tis done!--before my sight Opens the awful infinite: I see, I hear, I live anew! Oh friends, dear friends,--adieu, adieu! THE BLIND BOY AND HIS SISTER. “Oh brother,” said fair Annie, To the blind boy at her side: “Would thou could’st see the sunshine lie On hill and valley, and the sky Hung like a glorious canopy O’er all things far and wide!