Gladden.

Weir, Christmas Eve, 1865

CHRISTMAS EVE TEN YEARS AGO

At midnight's hour the solemn sound,

      The moaning swell

Hark, to the sound of that mystic bell,

Steals o'er my heart like a magic spell!

Tolls this bell upon my ear

      A cloud of frosty light

      So soft and clear,

This long December night—

      A chant of praise,

      For peaceful days.

Christmas Eve, watching the fire,

This dreary night, with visions bright;

Cheerful faces gladden my Christmas Eve

Upon a ghostly Winter's night.

Louis Charles