I weave with hips and haws a cheerful show,
And holly for a beauty and delight,
And milky mistletoe.
While high above them all I set
Yew twigs and Christmas roses, pure and pale;
Then Spring her snowdrop and her violet
May keep, so sweet and frail;
May keep each merry singing bird,
Of all her happy birds that singing build:
For I’ve a carol which some shepherds heard