Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1831.pdf/4

 1

"Ivy, holly, and mistletoe, Give me a penny before I go."

rose, it is the love of June, The violet that of spring; Out on the faithless and fading flowers That take the south wind's wing! Such craven blooms I hold in scorn— The holly's the wreath for a Christmas morn.

Its berries are red as a maiden's lip, Its leaves are of changeless green; And any thing changeless now, I wis, Is somewhat rare to be seen. The holly, which fall and frost has borne, The holly's the wreath for a Christmas morn.

Its edges are set in keen array, They are fairy weapons bared; And in an unlucky world like ours ’Tis as well to be prepared. Like the crest of a warrior worn, The holly's the wreath for a Christmas morn.

It was so with England's olden race,— But, alas! in this our day We think so much of the present time, That we cast the past away. Let us do as they did ere we were born,— The holly's the wreath for a Christmas morn.

The holly, it is no green-house plant, But grows in the common air; In the peasant's lattice, the castle hall, Its green leaves alike are there. If its lesson in mind be borne. The holly's the wreath for a Christmas morn. L. E. L.