Love came down at Christmas, Love all lovely, love divine; Love was born at Christmas, Star and angels gave the sign. Worship we the Godhead,
Lullaby, oh, lullaby! Flowers are closed and lambs are s… Lullaby, oh, lullaby! Stars are up, the moon is peeping; Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Jesus, do I love Thee? Thou art far above me, Seated out of sight Hid in Heavenly Light Of most highest height.
She holds a lily in her hand, Where long ranks of Angels stand, A silver lily for her wand. All her hair falls sweeping down; Her hair that is a golden brown,
My sun has set, I dwell In darkness as a dead man out of s… And none remains, not one, that I… To him mine evil plight This bitter night.
Go from me, summer friends, and ta… I am no summer friend, but wintry… A silly sheep benighted from the f… A sluggard with a thorn—choked gar… Take counsel, sever from my lot yo…
When the cows come home the milk i… Honey’s made while the bees are hu… Duck and drake on the rushy lake, And the deer live safe in the bree… And timid, funny, brisk little bun…
She stands as pale as Parian stat… Like Cleopatra when she turned at… And felt her strength above the R… And felt the aspic writhing in her… Her face is steadfast toward the s…
Rushes in a watery place, And reeds in a hollow; A soaring skylark in the sky, A darting swallow; And where pale blossom used to han…
Where sunless rivers weep Their waves into the deep, She sleeps a charmed sleep: Awake her not. Led by a single star,
Growing in the vale By the uplands hilly, Growing straight and frail, Lady Daffadowndilly. In a golden crown,
I marked where lovely Venus and h… With song and dance and merry laug… Weightless, their wingless feet se… Bound from the ground and in mid a… Left far behind I heard the dolph…
I will tell you when they met: In the limpid days of Spring; Elder boughs were budding yet, Oaken boughs looked wintry still, But primrose and veined violet
Too late for love, too late for jo… Too late, too late! You loiter’d on the road too long, You trifled at the gate: The enchanted dove upon her branch
If the sun could tell us half That he hears and sees, Sometimes he would make us laugh, Sometimes make us cry: Think of all the birds that make