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Title: A Christmas Ballad
Author: William Morris [
More Titles by Morris]
Outlanders, whence come ye last?
_The snow in the street and the wind on the door._
Through what green sea and great have ye past?
_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._
From far away, O masters mine,
_The snow in the street and the wind on the door._
We come to bear you goodly wine:
_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._
From far away we come to you,
_The snow in the street and the wind on the door._
To tell of great tidings strange and true:
_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._
News, news of the Trinity,
_The snow in the street and the wind on the door._
And Mary and Joseph from over the sea:
_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._
For as we wandered far and wide,
_The snow in the street and the wind on the door._
What hope do ye deem there should us betide?
_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._
Under a bent when the night was deep,
_The snow in the street and the wind on the door._
There lay three shepherds tending their sheep:
_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._
"O ye shepherds, what have ye seen,
_The snow in the street and the wind on the door._
To slay your sorrow and heal your teen?"
_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._
"In an ox-stall this night we saw,
_The snow in the street and the wind on the door._
A Babe and a maid without a flaw.
_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._
"There was an old man there beside,
_The snow in the street and the wind, on the door._
His hair was white, and his hood was wide.
_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._
"And as we gazed this thing upon,
_The snow in the street and the wind on the door._
Those twain knelt down to the Little One.
_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._
"And a marvellous song we straight did hear,
_The snow in the street and the wind on the door._
That slew our sorrow and healed our care."
_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._
News of a fair and a marvellous thing,
_The snow in the street and the wind on the door._
Nowell, nowell, nowell, we sing!
_Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor._
[The end]
William Morris's poem: A Christmas Ballad
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