And butterflies with gauzy wings; And herds of cows and flocks of sheep; And fruit and flowers and all the things You see when you are sound asleep. For creeping softly underneath The door when all the lights are out, Jack Frost takes every breath you breathe, And knows the things you think about. He paints them on the window pane And when you wake you see again Snow in Town NOTHING is quite so quiet and clean As snow that falls in the night; And isn't it jolly to jump from bed It lies on the window ledges, It lies on the boughs of the trees, While sparrows crowd at the kitchen door, With a pitiful "If you please?" Gabriel Setoun. It lies on the arm of the lamp-post, And the policeman under it beats his arms, The butcher's boy is rolling a ball No sound there is in the snowy road Till men come round with shovels And while we are having breakfast And all because of the thousands of geese And if you are good," he tells us, "And attend to your A B C, You may go in the garden and make a snow-man As big or bigger than me!" Rickman Mark. The Old English Christmas (From Marmion) AND well our Christian sires of old Loved when the year its course had rolled, And brought blithe Christmas back again, Domestic and religious rite Gave honour to the holy night; On Christmas eve the bells were rung; The Lord, underogating, share |