He sits by the fire, his hand in his purse,
And gives out gold for the poor.
Christmas! Christmas!
Hurrah! for gen’rous old Christmas!
With his purse of gold,
For the poor and old—
Hurrah! for gen’rous old Christmas!
How he loves to list to the old church bells
Ringing out their ancient tune;
Whilst he thinks on One, till his good heart swells,