A ROSE rX WINTER. 



" Blithe Ckristmas to thee, stranger, - 

 Blithe Chiistmas and thy weal ; 

 How I am kept from danger 

 'Tis easy to reveal. 



"Beneath the shade reposing 

 Of these most sacred walls, 

 Though storms around are closing, 

 No terror me appals : 



" And when the keen wind's whistle 

 Is sounding far and wide, 

 I closer, closer nestle 

 To holy Church's side. 



"Then, fellow-pilgrim, ever 

 To thy fond Mother cling ; 

 Let no rude hand thee sever 

 From Her protecting wing ; 



" For oft I hear sweet voices 

 Proclaiming from within, 

 That he alone rejoices 



In this drear world of sin, 



I 



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