It chanced upon the merry, merry Christmas eve,
I went sighing past the Church across the moorland dreary: "Oh! never sin and want and woe this earth will leave, And the bells but mock the wailing sound, they sing so cheery. How long, O Lord! how long before Thou come again?
Still in cellar and in garret, and on moorland dreary, The orphans moan, and widows weep, and poor men toil in vain: Till earth is sick of hope deferred, though Christmas bells be cheery."

Then arose a joyous clamour from the wild-fowl on the mere, Beneath the stars across the snow, like clear bells ringing, And a voice within cried, "Listen! Christmas carols even here! Though thou be dumb, yet o'er their work the stars and snows are singing.
Blind! I live, I love, I reign, and all the nations through With the thunder of my judgments even now are ringing; Do thou fulfil thy work but as yon wild-fowl do,
Thou wilt heed no less the wailing, yet hear through it the angels' singing."

A Christmas Carol.