Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419411" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Christmas</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Christmas is come and every hearth<br>Makes room to give him welcome now<br>E'en want will dry its tears in mirth<br>And crown him wi' a holly bough<br>Tho tramping 'neath a winters sky<br>O'er snow track paths and rhymey stiles<br>The huswife sets her spining bye<br>And bids him welcome wi' her smiles<br>Each house is swept the day before<br>And windows stuck wi' evergreens<br>The snow is beesom'd from the door<br>And comfort crowns the cottage scenes<br>Gilt holly wi' its thorny pricks<br>And yew and box wi' berrys small<br>These deck the unus'd candlesticks<br>And pictures hanging by the wall</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Neighbours resume their anual cheer<br>Wishing wi smiles and spirits high<br>Clad christmass and a happy year<br>To every morning passer bye<br>Milk maids their christmass journeys go<br>Accompanyd wi favourd swain<br>And childern pace the crumping snow<br>To taste their grannys cake again</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hung wi the ivys veining bough<br>The ash trees round the cottage farm<br>Are often stript of branches now<br>The cotters christmass hearth to warm<br>He swings and twists his hazel band<br>And lops them off wi sharpend hook<br>And oft brings ivy in his hand<br>To decorate the chimney nook</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old winter whipes his ides bye<br>And warms his fingers till he smiles<br>Where cottage hearths are blazing high<br>And labour resteth from his toils<br>Wi merry mirth beguiling care<br>Old customs keeping wi the day<br>Friends meet their christmass cheer to share<br>And pass it in a harmless way</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old customs O I love the sound<br>However simple they may be<br>What ere wi time has sanction found<br>Is welcome and is dear to me<br>Pride grows above simplicity<br>And spurns it from her haughty mind<br>And soon the poets song will be<br>The only refuge they can find</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The shepherd now no more afraid<br>Since custom doth the chance bestow<br>Starts up to kiss the giggling maid<br>Beneath the branch of mizzletoe<br>That neath each cottage beam is seen<br>Wi pearl-like-berrys shining gay<br>The shadow still of what hath been<br>Which fashion yearly fades away</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And singers too a merry throng<br>At early morn wi simple skill<br>Yet imitate the angels song<br>And chant their christmass ditty still<br>And mid the storm that dies and swells<br>By fits-in humings softly steals<br>The music of the village bells<br>Ringing round their merry peals</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when its past a merry crew<br>Bedeckt in masks and ribbons gay<br>The 'Morrice danse' their sports renew<br>And act their winter evening play<br>The clown-turnd-kings for penny praise<br>Storm wi the actors strut and swell<br>And harlequin a laugh to raise<br>Wears his hump back and tinkling bell</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And oft for pence and spicy ale<br>Wi winter nosgays pind before<br>The wassail singer tells her tale<br>And drawls her christmass carrols oer<br>The prentice boy wi ruddy face<br>And ryhme bepowderd dancing locks<br>From door to door wi happy pace<br>Runs round to claim his 'christmass box'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The block behind the fire is put<br>To sanction customs old desires<br>And many a faggots bands are cut<br>For the old farmers christmass fires<br>Where loud tongd gladness joins the throng<br>And winter meets the warmth of may<br>Feeling by times the heat too strong<br>And rubs his shins and draws away</div><div style="margin:10px 0">While snows the window panes bedim<br>The fire curls up a sunny charm<br>Where creaming oer the pitchers rim<br>The flowering ale is set to warm<br>Mirth full of joy as summer bees<br>Sits there its pleasures to impart<br>While childern tween their parents knees<br>Sing scraps of carrols oer by heart</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And some to view the winter weathers<br>Climb up the window seat wi glee<br>Likening the snow to falling feathers<br>In fancys infant extacy<br>Laughing wi superstitious love<br>Oer visions wild that youth supplyes<br>Of people pulling geese above<br>And keeping christmass in the skyes</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As tho the homstead trees were drest<br>In lieu of snow wi dancing leaves<br>As. tho the sundryd martins nest<br>Instead of ides hung the eaves<br>The childern hail the happy day<br>As if the snow was april grass<br>And pleasd as neath the warmth of may<br>Sport oer the water froze to glass</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou day of happy sound and mirth<br>That long wi childish memory stays<br>How blest around the cottage hearth<br>I met thee in my boyish days<br>Harping wi raptures dreaming joys<br>On presents that thy coming found<br>The welcome sight of little toys<br>The christmass gifts of comers round</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'The wooden horse wi arching head<br>Drawn upon wheels around the room<br>The gilded coach of ginger bread<br>And many colord sugar plumb<br>Gilt coverd books for pictures sought<br>Or storys childhood loves to tell<br>Wi many a urgent promise bought<br>To get tomorrows lesson well</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And many a thing a minutes sport<br>Left broken on the sanded floor<br>When we woud leave our play and court<br>Our parents promises for more<br>Tho manhood bids such raptures dye<br>And throws such toys away as vain<br>Yet memory loves to turn her eye<br>And talk such pleasures oer again</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Around the glowing hearth at night<br>The harmless laugh and winter tale<br>Goes round-while parting friends delight<br>To toast each other oer their ale<br>The cotter oft wi quiet zeal<br>Will musing oer his bible lean<br>While in the dark the lovers steal<br>To kiss and toy behind the screen</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The yule cake dotted thick wi plumbs<br>Is on each supper table found<br>And cats look up for falling crumbs<br>Which greedy childern litter round<br>And huswifes sage stuffd seasond chine<br>Long hung in chimney nook to drye<br>And boiling eldern berry wine<br>To drink the christmas eves 'good bye'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Clare">John Clare</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419411" data-title="Christmas de John Clare" data-description="Christmas is come and every hearth
Makes room to give him welcome now
E'en want will dry its tears in mirth
And crown him wi' a holly bough
Tho tramping 'neath a winters sky
O'er snow track paths and rhymey stiles
The huswife sets her spining bye
..."></div>
</div>
</div>