Page:Veil other poems .djvu/27

 IM-BERRIED is the mistletoe With globes of sheenless grey, The holly mid ten thousand thorns Smoulders its fires away; And in the manger Jesu sleeps This Christmas Day.

Bull unto bull with hollow throat Makes echo every hill, Cold sheep in pastures thick with snow The air with bleatings fill; While of his mother's heart this Babe Takes His sweet will.

All flowers and butterflies lie hid, The blackbird and the thrush Pipe but a little as they flit Restless from bush to bush; Even to the robin Gabriel hath Cried softly, 'Hush!'