England was merry England, when
Old Christmas brought his sports again.
'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale;
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England was merry England, when
Old Christmas brought his sports again.
'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale;
'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;
A Christmas gambol oft could cheer
The poor man's heart through half the year.

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

I heard the bells on Christmas Day; their old familiar carols play, and wild and sweet the word repeat of read more

I heard the bells on Christmas Day; their old familiar carols play, and wild and sweet the word repeat of peace on earth, good-will to men!

What babe new born is this that in a manger cries?
Near on her lowly bed his happy mother read more

What babe new born is this that in a manger cries?
Near on her lowly bed his happy mother lies.
Oh, see the air is shaken with white and heavenly wings--
This is the Lord of all the earth, this is the King of Kings.

As I sat on a sunny bank
On Christmas day in the morning
I spied three ships read more

As I sat on a sunny bank
On Christmas day in the morning
I spied three ships come sailing in.

"What means this glory round our feet,"
The Magi mused, "more bright than morn!"
And voices chanted read more

"What means this glory round our feet,"
The Magi mused, "more bright than morn!"
And voices chanted clear and sweet,
"To-day the Prince of Peace is born."

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.

I am not alone at all, I thought. I was never alone at all. And that, of course, is the read more

I am not alone at all, I thought. I was never alone at all. And that, of course, is the message of Christmas. We are never alone. Not when the night is darkest, the wind coldest, the world seemingly most indifferent. For this is still the time God chooses.

Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace;
East, west, north, and south let the long quarrel cease;
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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!