Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

How bless'd, how envied, were our life,
Could we but scape the poulterer's knife!
But man, curs'd read more

How bless'd, how envied, were our life,
Could we but scape the poulterer's knife!
But man, curs'd man, on Turkeys preys,
And Christmas shortens all our days:
Sometimes with oysters we combine,
Sometimes assist the savory chine;
From the low peasant to the lord,
The Turkey smokes on every board.

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.

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
read more

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

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.

Love came down at Christmas; love all lovely, love divine; love was born at Christmas, stars and angels gave the read more

Love came down at Christmas; love all lovely, love divine; love was born at Christmas, stars and angels gave the sign.

There's nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child.

There's nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child.

'Twas the night before Christman, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,--not even a mouse:
read more

'Twas the night before Christman, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,--not even a mouse:
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

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.