Now comes the Christmas-tide...

Now comes the Christmas-tide:

Love wakes on every side;

Mirth smiles from every eye;

Wreaths greet the passer-by.

Who, full of haughty pride,

Loves not the Christmas-tide?

He who, with av'rice low,

Cares not to joy bestow.

God save the wretch denied

Love for the Christmas-tide!

God tell his hardened heart

Pure joy must joy impart!

Who, close to grief allied,

Grieves‘ mid the Christmas-tide?

She who, at Sorrow's call,

Now mourns the loss of all.

God save the dear bereft —

Teach her the mercies left!

Show her that clouds may yet

Lift, ere her sun be set!

Who lonely must abide

All through the Christmas-tide?

He who has never known

Love-passion of his own.

So follows he his fate,

Friendly but desolate;

So — sad — his heart must hide

All through the Christmas-tide!