And onward still he steers.
The children laugh, and the children chaff,
He sits so stiff and straight,
And grandpère waves, with his thorn-tree staff,
A greeting at the gate!
Olives and almonds, and cheese and bread,
And the pack on his back grows stout!
Let the hungry poor to their fill be fed,
While the nougat bells ring out.
Thus, Melchior rides from door to door,