THE trees are bare, wild flies the snow, Hearths are glowing, hearts are merry -- High in the air is the Mistletoe, Over the door is the Holly Berry. Never have care how the winds may blow, Never confess the revel grows weary -- Yule is the time of the Mistletoe, Yule is the time of the Holly Berry. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PSALM 85 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE ASOLANDO: THE POPE AND THE NET by ROBERT BROWNING |