From under the boughs in the snow-clad wood
The merle and mavis are peeping.
Alike from the wind and the flood,
Yet a silent Christmas keeping.
Still happy are they,
And their looks are gay,
And they frisk it from bough to bough.
Since berries bright red
Hang over their head,
A right goodly feast, I trow.
There under the boughs in their wintry dress,
Haps many a tender greeting;
Blithe hearts have met, and the soft caress
Hath told the delight of meeting.
Though winter hath come
To his woodland home,
There is mirth with old Christmas cheer,
For 'neath the light snow
Is the fruit-fraught bough,
And each to his love is near.
Yes! under the boughs, scarce seen, nestle they,
Those children of song together -
As blissful by night, as joyous by day,
'Mid the snows and the wintry weather.
For they dream of spring,
And the songs they'll sing,
When the flowers bloom again in the mead;
And mindful are they
Of those blossoms gay,
Which have brought them today
Such help in their time of need!
-- Harrison Weir
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