Again at Christmas did we Dance Around The holly and Christmas Tree Prance; The silent snow possess'd the earth, And calmly fell our Christmas- Glance The yule-log sparkled keen with frost, No wing of wind the region swept, But over all things brooding slept The quiet sense of something lost. As in the winters left behind, Again our Old games had place, The mimic picture's breathing grace, And dance and song and hoodman-blind. Who show'd a token of distress? No single tear, no mark of pain: O sorrow, then can sorrow wane? O grief, can grief be changed to less? This We Wish and Hope You Blessed O last regret, regret can die! Noimixt with all this mystic frame, Her deep relations are the same, But with long use her tears are dry.