198 
FLORAL POESY. 
THE MISTLETOE. 
On Christmas-eve the bells were rung. 
On Christmas-eve the mass was sung ; 
That only night in all the year 
Saw the stolecl priest the chalice near. 
The damsel donned her kirtle sheen ; 
The hall was dressed with holly green : 
Forth to the woods did merry men go. 
To gather in the mistletoe ; 
Then opened wide the baron’s hall 
To vassal, tenant, serf, and all. 
UNDER THE MISTLETOE. 
Under the mistletoe, pearly and green. 
Meet the kind lips of the young and the old ; 
Under the mistletoe hearts may be seen 
Glowing as though they had never been cold. 
Under the mistletoe, peace and goodwill 
Mingle the spirits that long have been twain ; 
Leaves of the olive-branch twine with it still. 
While breathings of hope fill the loud carol strain. 
Yet why should this holy and festival mirth 
In the reign of old Christmas-tide only be found ? 
Hang up love’s mistletoe over the earth, 
And let us kiss under it all the year round. 
Hang up the mistletoe over the land 
Where the poor dark man is spurned by the white ; 
Hang it wherever Oppression’s strong hand 
Wrings from the helpless humanity’s right; 
