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?