’Tis the merriest sound upon earth and sea,
For it comes from our own Aunt Mary’s tree!
So, of all that grow by the king’s highway,
I love that tree the best:
’Tis a bower for the birds upon Christmas Day,
The bush of the bleeding breast.
Oh! the holly, with her drops of blood, for me;
For that is our sweet Aunt Mary’s tree!
The following was sent to the same young girl, P—— M——:—
Morwenstow, February, 1853. Dear P——,—I have copied a little parable-story for you. Tell me if you can understand it. May God bless you, my dear child, whom I love for your father’s sake!