O Christmas hollies! O thrice-blessed morn! Again with thy dear message art thou come, A word of joy to thousands, but to some A fable among fables, 'Christ is born!' Hold off the hour to which our folly leans, When priesthood in his own white robe shall stand Forsworn - amid the faithful evergreens! A thief - a traitor to his own right hand! Once perjured and ordained, what follows next? Whene'er, as preacher, to his flock he speaks, The self-yoked sophist, fretting at his text, Will rub against its meaning - while the weeks And months drag on his hollow Christian year - Woe to faint hearts! we must not falter here. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I WOULD LIVE IN YOUR LOVE by SARA TEASDALE SONGS OF EXPERIENCE: INTRODUCTION by WILLIAM BLAKE NINETY-NINE IN THE SHADE by ROSSITER JOHNSON OVERHEARD ON A SALTMARSH by HAROLD MONRO OH! BLAME NOT THE BARD by THOMAS MOORE EUTERPE by LUCIUS MORRIS BEEBE |