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This is the month, and this the happy morn,
Wherein the Son of Heaven's eternal King,
Of read more
This is the month, and this the happy morn,
Wherein the Son of Heaven's eternal King,
Of wedded maid and virgin mother born,
Our great redemption from above did bring,
For so the holy sages once did sing,
That He our deadly forfeit should release,
And with His Father work us a perpetual peace.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.
Christmas is for children. But it is for grown-ups too. Even if
it is a headache, a chore, and read more
Christmas is for children. But it is for grown-ups too. Even if
it is a headache, a chore, and a nightmare, it is a period of
necessary defrosting of chilled hidebound hearts.
For little children everywhere
A joyous season still we make;
We bring our precious gifts to them,
read more
For little children everywhere
A joyous season still we make;
We bring our precious gifts to them,
Even for the dear child Jesus' sake.
Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace;
East, west, north, and south let the long quarrel cease;
read more
Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace;
East, west, north, and south let the long quarrel cease;
Sing the song of great joy that the angels began,
Sing the glory to God and of good-will to man!
It is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas, when its mighty Founder was a Child read more
It is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas, when its mighty Founder was a Child himself.
High noon behind the tamarisks, the sun is hot above us--
As at home the Christmas Day is breaking read more
High noon behind the tamarisks, the sun is hot above us--
As at home the Christmas Day is breaking wan,
They will drink our healths at dinner, those who tell us how they
love us,
And forget us till another year be gone!
When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, we hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago, read more
When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, we hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago, and etched on vacant places are half-forgotten faces of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know.
Christmas Eve was a night of song that wrapped itself about you like a shawl. But it warmed more than read more
Christmas Eve was a night of song that wrapped itself about you like a shawl. But it warmed more than your body. It warmed your heart... filled it, too, with melody that would last forever.