His toilet done, he went to sleep, The Rector followed them himself,

And never once awoke To help the young ones on,
Till, coming in on Christmas morn, And teach their voices how to sing
Jem gave the stove a poke, In tune their Christmas song.
Then in alarm he flew away And first he charged them all to try
Along the middle aisle, And feel the words they sang;
And perching on the pulpit-top, Then reading from his open book,
He rested there awhile. He thus the hymn began:

But what an unexpected sight “Glory to God from all
Is this that meets his eyes! To whom He’s given breath;
The church is dressed with holly green, | Glory to God from all
To him so great a prize. Whom He has saved from death.”

For ’mongst the leaves the berries hung,} Now, when the Rector’s voice had ceased,

Inviting him to eat ; The children, led by him,
On every side were hundreds more,— Were just about, with earnest voice,
A rich and endless treat, The verse of praise to sing,

He could not know that Christian folks | When suddenly, from high above,

Had brought the holly green, Another song they hear,
That so their joy for Jesu’s birth | And all look up in hushed amaze,
Might in this way be seen. | At notes so sweet and clear.
Now, very soon a little troop 'T was Robin sitting on a spray
Of children entered in: Of twisted holly bright ;

They came to practise Christmas songs His light weight swayed it, as he sang

Hre service should begin. | His song with all his might.