THE HOLLY TREE. ROBERT SOUTHEY. O READER! hast thou ever stood to see The The holly tree? eye that contemplates it well perceives Ordered by an intelligence so wise, As might confound the atheist's sophistries. Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen, No grazing cattle, through their prickly round, But as they grow where nothing is to fear, I love to view these things with curious eyes, And moralize: And in this wisdom of the holly tree Can emblems see, Wherewith, perchance, to make a pleasant rhyme, One which may profit in the after time. Thus, though abroad perchance I might appear Harsh and austere, To those who on my leisure would intrude Reserved and rude, Gentle at home amid my friends I'd be, Like the high leaves upon the holly tree. And should my youth, as youth is apt, I know, Some harshness show, All vain asperities I day by day Would wear away, Till the smooth temper of my age should be And as when all the summer trees are seen The holly leaves a sombre hue display, Less bright than they; But when the bare and wintry woods we see, So serious should my youth appear among So would I seem amid the young and gay That in my age as cheerful I might be UNDER THE HOLLY BOUGH. CHARLES MACKAY. YE who have scorned each other, Or injured friend or brother, Ye who, by word or deed, Have made a kind heart bleed, Come gather here. Let sinned against, and sinning, And join in friendship now: Under the Holly Bough. THE HOLLY BERKY. Ye who have loved cach other, In this fast fading year: Young man and maiden mild, . And let your hearts grow fonder, Each past unbroken vow. Under the Holly Bough. Ye who have nourished sadness, Ye, with o'erburdened mind, Let not the useless sorrow If e'er you hoped, hope now- Under the Holly Bough. THE HOLLY BERRY. THOMAS MILLER. GONE are the summer hours, The birds have left their bowers; While the holly true retains his hue, Nor changes like the flowers. On his armèd leaf reposes The berries tinged like roses; For he's ever seen in red and green, While grim old Winter dozes. hen drink to the holly berry, Above all cold affections, Like pleasant recollections, While the falling shrine it doth entwine Then drink, &c. We read in ancient story, How the Druids in their glory Marched forth of old, with hooks of gold, To forests dim and hoary; The giant oak ascended, Then from its branches rended The mistletoe, long long ago, By maidens fair attended. Then drink, &c. Each thorpe and grange surrounding, The waits to music bounding, Aroused the cook, that her fire might smoke Ere the early cock was sounding. THE CHRISTMAS HOLLY. For all the land was merry, And rang with "Hey down derry," THE CHRISTMAS HOLLY. ELIZA COOK. 1 THE holly! the holly! oh, twine it with bay For it helps to drive stern winter away, With his garment so sombre and long; When the flowers and fruits have long been dead, Then sing to the holly, the Christmas holly, That hangs over peasant and king; While we laugh and carouse 'neath its glitt'ring boughs, The gale may whistle, the frost may come The woods may be bare, and warblers dumb, In the revel and light of princely halls The bright holly branch is found; And its shadow falls on the lowliest walls, While the brimming horn goes round. Then drink to the holly, &c. A |