Winslow Homer's Sleigh Ride
Christmas Eve Meditation
There is a hush that comes on Christmas Eve—
Life's hurry and its stress grow far away;
And something in the silence seems to weave
A mood akin to sadness, yet we say
A "Merry Christmas" to the friends we meet,
And all the while we feel that mystic spell,
As if the Christ Child came on noiseless feet,
With something old, yet ever new, to tell
The eyes grow misty, yet they shed no tear,
And those that we have lost, somehow seem near.
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