 | Beads from a Rosary |  |
103
THE HOLLY TREE.
Blythest of all trees art thou,
Holly-tree, holly-tree!
In the rough, wild, winter weather,
Shining forth so jauntily;
When the earth doth look the oldest,
When the storm blasts blow the coldest,
Wearing still thy greenery;
Wearing e'en a fresher aspect,
And a sleeker jollity.
Holly-tree, holly-tree!
In the rough, wild, winter weather,
Shining forth so jauntily;
When the earth doth look the oldest,
When the storm blasts blow the coldest,
Wearing still thy greenery;
Wearing e'en a fresher aspect,
And a sleeker jollity.
Joyous tales, oh, holly-tree,
Written on thy leaves I see:
Joyous tales of mirth departed,
And of mirth that's yet to be.
Ha! the very wind, that through thee
Flitteth, pays a tribute to thee,
For, methinks, a sound of laughter,
Blendeth with its minstrelsy.
Written on thy leaves I see:
Joyous tales of mirth departed,
And of mirth that's yet to be.
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Flitteth, pays a tribute to thee,
For, methinks, a sound of laughter,
Blendeth with its minstrelsy.
Stately halls of olden days,
Lighted by the torch's blaze;
Stately halls, with tables groaning,
'Neath the weight of goodly cheer;
Gleesome faces round about,
Warm, heart-gladness, beaming out,
Roaring songs, and ringing glasses,
Bumpers to the parting year;—
Lighted by the torch's blaze;
Stately halls, with tables groaning,
'Neath the weight of goodly cheer;
Gleesome faces round about,
Warm, heart-gladness, beaming out,
Roaring songs, and ringing glasses,
Bumpers to the parting year;—
Minstrel lays, so dear of yore,
Dances, on the rush-strewn floor,
Beaming eyes, and waving tresses,
Loving whispers, soft and low;
Jests, from ruby lips outstealing,
Honied accents, past revealing,
Blushing eheeks, and kisses, stolen
'Neath the mystic misletoe;
Dances, on the rush-strewn floor,
Beaming eyes, and waving tresses,
Loving whispers, soft and low;
Jests, from ruby lips outstealing,
Honied accents, past revealing,
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'Neath the mystic misletoe;
Mummeries, sager times have banish'd,
Superstitions, long evanished,
All quaint-visaged usages,
Of a ruder, merrier day—
These, Oh shining holly-tree,
Well are chronicled by thee,—
Who can marvel that thou wearest
Such a glossy look, and gay!
Superstitions, long evanished,
All quaint-visaged usages,
Of a ruder, merrier day—
These, Oh shining holly-tree,
Well are chronicled by thee,—
Who can marvel that thou wearest
Such a glossy look, and gay!
Holly-tree, holly-tree,
I will pluck a sprig from thee;—
In the rough, wild, winter weather,
I will wear it jauntily;
So, when weariness hath found me,
When the gloom doth thicken round me,
It shall be to me, O holly,
As a charm 'gainst melancholy;
Making darkest things look pleasant,
Bidding saddest fancies flee,
Brightening all the cloudy present
With its tales of by-gone glee;
And before decay doth reach it,
In return, old tree, we'll teach it
Newer tales, and just as joyous,
At our Christmas revelry.
I will pluck a sprig from thee;—
In the rough, wild, winter weather,
I will wear it jauntily;
So, when weariness hath found me,
When the gloom doth thicken round me,
It shall be to me, O holly,
As a charm 'gainst melancholy;
Making darkest things look pleasant,
Bidding saddest fancies flee,
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With its tales of by-gone glee;
And before decay doth reach it,
In return, old tree, we'll teach it
Newer tales, and just as joyous,
At our Christmas revelry.
| Beads from a Rosary | |