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The Holly.
As dreaming by my fire I sat,
I heard a merry din;
The door I opened wide; at that,
A stranger-child stepped in.
He wore a fleecy, warm, white hat
Tied round his dimpled chin.
Green leaves and berries red he brought;
His face and voice were jolly;—
"I have no flowers, but these, I thought,
Would cure your melancholy.
I'll sing a song, that I've been taught,—
It's called, 'Heigh ho, the Holly!'"
Edith M. Thomas.
