Mild Christmas

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Mild Christmas

On Christmas Day of eighty-nine,

The sun all day did pleasant shine;

The cows they would not eat their hay,

But o’er the pasture lands did stray.

Such winter day is seldom seen,

Instead of white the fields were green;

Colts and young cattle they did play,

Happy as in the month of May.

But Canadians do delight,

To see the landscape robed in white;

To them the sweetest music dwells

In merry tinkle of sleigh bells.

And land doth more abundant yield,

When the snow mantle covers field;

And farmer quick can load his sleigh,

And cheerful drive o’er icy way.

For true Canadians love the snow,

And like to hear old Boreas blow;

For with just pride they all do boast,

They love the winter’s cold and frost.