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Ye have seen me oft, 'mid the summer day, In my woodland home, with the breeze at play; Catching the dews as they sparkling fell. And folding them close in each floral bell; And teaching my buds, with a joyous ray, To lift their blue eyes to the King of Day.

But now, when the last leaf of Autumn is shed. Ye thought, no doubt, I was sere and dead: No, no! I have baffled the Spoiler's sting, Affection's token to you to bring. I have dared the wrath of the frosty sky, To gather you blossoms that cannot die.

Will ye welcome me in from my toil and care, For the blessings I breathe, and the sweets I bear? If ye give me shelter this wintry hour, If ye make me a guest at the hearth and bower, You will never regret, I am fain to say, The Hare-Bell's visit, this Christmas-day.