The Hanging of the Holly
The holly is for happiness;
Hang it, hang it high,
When the holy morn we bless
Shows its rose along the sky!
The holly is for heartsome cheer;
Hang it, hang it high,
While the glory of the year
Lights the heights of all the sky!
The holly is for home-side mirth;
Hang it, hang it high,
Till the dearest day of earth
Fades in shades along the sky!
The Maid of Bethlehem
It was a maid of Bethlehem;—
As fair as spring was she
When first lifts up its fragile cup
The rathe anemone.
It was a man of Bethlehem;—
As dark of heart was he
As is night’s Stygian shadow cast
Upon the lone Dead Sea.
He fawned where’er she set her foot,
He followed her like fate;
And when she sealed his lips with scorn,
He held a tryst with hate.
And then, as venom through the veins,
Through Bethlehem there ran
A whispered malice in the air
That spread from man to man.
“And shall this living lie endure?”
In rising rage, they said;
“The purging fire shall work a cure
Upon her sinful head!”