'TWAS long ago, the legends say, Sir Roderick gave a party gay On Christmas night at Lynden Hall; And ladies fair and gallants tall, And lord and matron old and gray, Came, one and all, To Roderick's Hall. The Yule log blazed and burned and roared, And flames and sparks up chimney soared; In festoons gay the holly swung, The misletoe demurely hung From arches o'er the festal board, And shyly clung Where bright lights hung. The holly's berries, pale and white, -- And not, as now, so red and bright, -- Were woven with the mistletoe, And hung just where -- now you must know What surely haps on Christmas night If maiden go 'Neath mistletoe. And when beneath this magic spray Fair Gladys happ'd perchance to stray, Up quickly stepped a gallant knight, And kissed her there, as was his right; And all the legends truly say That ne'er did knight Give kiss so light. The holly berries overhead Grew rosy, and turned crimson red; For when they saw the rosy hue On Gladys' cheek, what could they do But drop and blush? So rosy red, In blushing too, The holly grew. |