The Christmas time is drawing near, the pleasant Christmas time;
Let us hail its coming cheerfully, with a song of rude old rhyme:
A good rough song, like those that when old England yet was young,
Under old Saxon rafters with a jolly chorus rung;
And round shall pass the merry glass, grim care we'll drive away,
And music .and the dance shall greet the gladsome Christmas day.

Old fends we'll bury fathoms deep, old friendships we'll renew,
And closer cling to those we love, as the ivy to the yew;
There may be Winter out of doors, the keen, cold wind may sing
Shrilly and sharply, but within the warm heart shall be Spring;
Kind feelings, like sweet jasmine buds and flowers shall come again,
And blossom like the summer rose, blessed with a morning rain.

Had we our way, the good old sports should be revived once more;
Again should maiden's little feet dance twinkling on the floor;
While overhead again should hang the dark-green mistleto,
And all lips that strayed under it the forfeit pay, we know.
The Yule-log should again be brought by many a stout, strong hand,
And some fair girl should light it, with the last year's sacred brand.

Once more should pass the wassail-bowl, of nut-brown ale and old,
A sovereign panacea, that, against the winter's cold!
With the nutmeg, toast and ginger:—all the vintage of the Rhine
Can neither warm the brain as well nor make dark eyes to shine
With half as much mad mischief, or with half as merry glee:—
So away with wine! good Yule-tide ale for MY sweetheart and me!

'And both in town and country, in the cottage and the hall,
There should be fires to curb the cold, and meat for great and small.'
The neighbors should be bidden in, and all have welcome true,
And think the good old fashions were far better than the new;
The roasted apples once again should cover all the hearth,
And many a good old-fashioned game make the rafters ring with mirth.

And the boar's head dressed with a green silk scarf, and with trumpets blown before,
Come marching solemnly along with a carol sung at the door;
Then the maidens should the cake cut up, and she who found the bean,
Should be, the whole long holidays, a lovely Christmas Queen;
With pretty grace and modesty the coronal to wear,
That brings not to the youthful head uneasiness or care.

And the Christmas tree again should grow, and its golden fruitage shine,
Around its dark-green glossy leaves; the ivy fondly twine
Its melancholy tendrils round the trunk and every limb,
As sad thoughts cling around the heart, when at night the fire burns dim:
Not of holly, bay or laurel — we would have no royal tree—
But the lusty, green Magnolia, fit emblem for the free.

Alas! the good old days are gone! Time blows au adverse gale;
On the waves of new strange oceans falls the shadow of our sail;
No more old games we play, we crown no fair young
Queen or King; 'Twas a mere idle dream, that through my mind went wandering;
Like as the sea-wind softly blows through a shell upon the shore,
And makes a low, sweet melody, echo of ocean's roar.

Not all a dream! We can forgive those that have done us wrong,
Draw closer to old friends, and make affection's bonds more strong;
Create more sunlight on Life's ways, more starlight in the heart,
And get us ready for the time when we must hence depart;—
So may we live in peace with all, and when we pass away,
Look back without a bitter thought to this fair CHRISTMAS DAY.