'Tis Christmas, and across the desolate sky
Crystals of snow like frozen petals fall;
They eddy round the house, and, 'neath its wall,
Seek for some sheltered place wherein to lie.
Shut close the door left Stormy winter try
To chill with icy breath our festival:
Thrice welcome you who hold our hearts in thrall.
Whose happiness our good will multiply.
Once, in a house where any might procure
A sustenance, our Lord Himself, disguised
In childish mien a welcome could not find ;
And yet His advent did itself assure
Those very blessings men have since despised.
Peace upon earth, good-will to all mankind.