Christmas Hath A Beauty ... Lovelier Than

The Violets Whisper From The Shade Which Their Own Leaves Have Made: Men Scent Our Fragrance On The Air, Yet Take No Heed Of Humble Lessons We Would Read.

A Pin Has A Head, But Has No Hair

Yet Come To Me In Dreams, That I May Live My Very Life Again Though Cold In Death; Come Back To Me In Dreams, That I May Give Pulse For Pulse, Breath For Breath: Speak Low, Lean Low, As Long Ago, My Love, How Long Ago

Be The Green Grass Above Me, With Showers And Dewdrops Wet; And If Thou Wilt, Remember, And If Thou Wilt, Forget.

Oh That It Were With Me As With The Flower; Blooming On Its Own Tree For Butterfly And Bee Its Summer Morns: That I Might Bloom Mine Hour A Rose In Spite Of Thorns. Oh That My Work Were Done As Birds' That Soar Rejoicing In The Sun: That When My Time Is Run And Daylight Too, I So Might Rest Once More Cool With Refreshing Dew.