THE FEAST-TIME OF THE YEAR.
THIS is the feast-time of the year
When hearts grow warm and home more dear;
When Autumn's crimson torch expires
To flash again in winter fires;
And they who tracked October's flight
Through woods with gorgeous hues bedight,
In charmed circle sit and praise
The goodly log's triumphant blaze.
When hearts grow warm and home more dear;
When Autumn's crimson torch expires
To flash again in winter fires;
And they who tracked October's flight
Through woods with gorgeous hues bedight,
In charmed circle sit and praise
The goodly log's triumphant blaze.
This is the feast-time of the year
When Plenty pours her wine of cheer,
And even humble boards may spare
To poorer poor a kindly share;
While bursting barns and granaries know
A richer, fuller overflow,
And they who dwell in golden ease
Bless without toil yet toil to please.
When Plenty pours her wine of cheer,
And even humble boards may spare
To poorer poor a kindly share;
While bursting barns and granaries know
A richer, fuller overflow,
And they who dwell in golden ease
Bless without toil yet toil to please.
This is the feast-time of the year:
The blessed Advent draweth near.
The blessed Advent draweth near.
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