Christians awake, salute the happy morn
Whereon the Saviour of the world was born.

Christians awake, salute the happy morn
Whereon the Saviour of the world was born.

"Hark the herald angels sing,
Glory to the new-born king."
Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
read more

"Hark the herald angels sing,
Glory to the new-born king."
Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled.!

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.

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.

Did you ever notice that life seems to follow certain patterns? Like I noticed that every year around this time, read more

Did you ever notice that life seems to follow certain patterns? Like I noticed that every year around this time, I hear Christmas music.

The sun doth shake
Light from his locks, and, all the way
Breathing perfumes, doth spice the read more

The sun doth shake
Light from his locks, and, all the way
Breathing perfumes, doth spice the day.

Christmas in Bethlehem. The ancient dream: a cold, clear night made brilliant by a glorious star, the smell of incense, read more

Christmas in Bethlehem. The ancient dream: a cold, clear night made brilliant by a glorious star, the smell of incense, shepherds and wise men falling to their knees in adoration of the sweet baby, the incarnation of perfect love.

As many mince pies as you taste at Christmas' so many happy
months will you have.

As many mince pies as you taste at Christmas' so many happy
months will you have.

No trumpet-blast profound
The hour in which the Prince of Peace was born;
No bloody streamlet stained
read more

No trumpet-blast profound
The hour in which the Prince of Peace was born;
No bloody streamlet stained
Earth's silver rivers on the sacred morn.