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Ever Green
Each house is swept the day before,
And windows stuck with evergreens,
The snow is besom'd from the door,
And comfort crowns the cottage scenes.
Gilt holly, with its thorny pricks
And yew and box, with berries small,
These deck the unused candlesticks,
And pictures hanging by the wall.
John Clare 1793-1864
Christmas Bells
The singing waits, a merry throng,
At early morn with simple skill,
Yet imitate the angel's song,
And chant their Christmas ditty still;
And, mid the storm that dies and swells
By fits, in hummings softly steals
The music of the village bells,
Ringing round their merry peals.
John Clare 1793-1864
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