Стихи и рассказы из категории christmas

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'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
A Visit from St. Nicholas
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To Denis
Again the native hour lets down the
Uncombed and black, but gray the bobbing beard;
Ten years ago His eyes, fierce shuttlecocks,
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I heard the bells on Christmas
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and
The words
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I saw our golden years on a black gale,our time of love spilt in the furious dust
"O we are winter-caught, and we must fail,"said the dark dream, "and time is overcast
"-And woke into the night; but you were there,and...
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May all my enemies go to hell,
Noel,
Noel,
Noel,
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The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand;
The decks were like a slide, where a seaman scarce could stand;
The wind was a nor'wester, blowing squally off the sea;
And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things ...
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So stick up ivy and the bays,
And then restore the heathen ways
Green will remind you of the spring,
Though this great day denies the thing
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Father calls me William, sister calls me Will,
Mother calls me Willie, but the fellers call me Bill
Mighty glad I ain't a girl - ruther be a boy,
Without them sashes, curls, an' things that's worn by Fauntleroy
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The first Nowell the Angel did say   Was to three poor Shepherds in the fields as they lay;   In fields where they lay keeping their sheep   In a cold winter's night that was so deep
Nowell,
Nowell,
Nowell,
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It was Christmas Day in the
In Spain in Penninsular War,
And Sam Small were cleaning his musketA thing as he'd ne're done before
They'd had 'em inspected that
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In a southern forest gloomy and old,
So lately the scene of a terrible fight,
A soldier, alone in the dark and cold,
Is keeping the watch tonight
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There fared a mother driven
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was
All men are at home
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This section is a Christmas tree:
Loaded with pretty toys for you
Behold the blocks, the Noah's arks,
The popguns painted red and blue
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The little Jesus came to town;
The wind blew up, the wind blew down;
Out in the street the wind was bold;
Now who would house Him from the cold
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Give me this day a faith not personal,
As follows:
The American people fully
With assurance policies, righteous and harmed,
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Mr
Smiggs was a gentleman,
And he lived in London town;
His wife she was a good kind soul,
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