And your boats return, and the shallop's light
Shall follow the light of the sun.
The sky is cold and gray,—
And here are no ancient bells to ring,
No priests to chant, no choirs to sing,
No chapel of baron, or lord, or king.
This gray, cold Christmas Day.
"If Christ was born on Christmas Day,
And the day by Him is blest,
Then low at His feet the evergreens lay