University of Virginia Library

THE HOLLY TREE.

Green holly, glitt'ring in the gleams
Of gloomy winter, when the beams
Of western suns break wan between
The wat'ry clouds, and winds blow keen
Through leafless hawthorns, growing high
In hedge below thy chilly sky.
Thy life betokens, as we tread
The trackless beds of leaves all dead,
That though, in wint'ry winds, they now
Have wither'd on their shaken bough,
The shrouds that shed them at our feet
Will share again the quick'ning heat
Of lofty suns, and groves shall grow
All green again in summer's glow.
O holly green, unheeded child
Of heathy slope, and woodland wild,
Of evergreens with limbs bent low
By loads of lightly-sinking snow,
But few are left, O lonely tree,
With less of heed or help than thee.
The clinging ivy-stem, that cleaves
To cloud-high trees, with glist'ning leaves,
Or with its crookèd limbs o'ercrawls
The crevices of lofty walls,
Holds steady by its trusty stay
When storms begloom the winter's day.
The mistletoe, disowning earth,
The air-fed child of lofty birth,
Keeps on her sunny tree her seat
Unsoil'd by touch of earth-borne feet;
While o'er the grey old headstone grows
The green-bark'd yew, wall'd in from foes
In hallow'd ground, to hang its head
Unharm'd, o'ershadowing the dead.
The forest fir that seems to mock
Its foes upon the ragged rock,
With twisting roots holds firmly fast
By faithful cliffs, and bears the blast;
And weatherbeaten walls inclose
The winter laurel from its foes,
Where, near the house, its scanty screen
Beskirts the walk upon the green;
And some fair girl, who first has felt
Her fulfraught heart with true love melt,
When fields are wearing, wide below
Her window, glitt'ring coats of snow,
Steals meekly from her mother's eyes,
To meditate by twilight skies;
And walks, unoccupied by aught
But one dear name, in blissful thought
Of bridal days still breaking blest
To bring her joy and leave her rest.
But no strong fence nor faithful tree
Affords a saving strength to thee,
Green holly, standing on thy hill
Unheeded, but preserv'd from ill
By thorn-sharp prickles thrilling keen
A threat'ning foe, fair evergreen;
Thus showing, holy shrub, the low
Unshielded souls o'erwhelm'd with woe;
That God in love will never leave
O'erlook'd his children when they grieve.
When winter brings the welcome morn
That warns us of a Saviour born,
And meeting kindred bring to mind
The mercy God has shown our kind,
Thy ruddy berries set around
The room, are shaken by the sound
Of festive laugh, and freaky joke,
Of frolic-loving younger folk,
While mothers, smiling side by side,
All see their daughters' mirth with pride,
Enjoying o'er, in melting mood,
Their mirthful games of maidenhood,
Forgetful of the time to go
Through gath'ring sheets of glitt'ring snow;
Till low Orion faintly lights
Their lonely road, from western heights.
So live undying to adorn
Our day of joy thou tree forlorn;
Still meeting mirth and hearty cheer
And music welcoming the year,
In happy homes where love may glow
In hearts but little tried with woe.