Page:Our American Holidays - Christmas.djvu/168

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     Out of the mists of childhood,
       Steeped in a golden glory,
     Come dreamy forms and faces,
       Snatches of song and story;
     Whispers of sweet, still faces;
       Rays of ethereal glimmer,
     That gleam like sunny heavens,
       Ne'er to grow colder or dimmer:
Now far in the distance, now shining near,
Lighting the snows of the shivering year.

     Faces there are that tremble,
       Bleared with a silent weeping,
     Weird in a shadowy sorrow,
       As if endless vigil keeping.
     Faces of dazzling brightness,
       With childlike radiance lighted,
     Flashing with many a beauty,
       Nor care nor time had blighted.
But o'er them all there 's a glamour thrown,
Bright with the dreamy distance alone.

     Aglow in the Christmas halo,
       Shining with heavenly lustre,
     These are the fairy faces
       That round the hearthstone cluster.