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- WITH footstep slow, in furry pall clad,
- His brows enwreath'd with holly never-sear,
- Old Christmas comes, to close the waned year;
- And ay the Shepherd's heart to make right glad;
- Who, when his teeming flocks are homeward had,
- To blazing hearth repairs, and nut-brown beer,
- And views, well-pleas'd, the ruddy prattlers dear
- Hug the grey mongrel; meanwhile maid and lad
- Squabble for roasted crabs*.--Thee, Sire, we
- Whether thine aged limbs thou dost enshroud,
- In vest of snowy white, and hoary veil,
- Or wrap'st thy visage in a sable cloud;
- Thee we proclaim with mirth and cheer, nor fail
- To greet thee well with many a carol loud.
- John Codrington Bampfylde
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