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A French Noel
by [?]


I hear along our street
Pass the minstrel throngs;
Hark! they play so sweet,
On their hautboys, Christmas songs!
Let us by the fire
Ever higher
Sing them till the night expire!

In December ring
Every day the chimes;
Loud the gleemen sing
In the streets their merry rhymes.
Let us by the fire, etc.

Shepherds at the grange,
Where the Babe was born,
Sang, with many a change,
Christmas carols until morn.
Let us by the fire, etc.

These good people sang
Songs devout and sweet;
While the rafters rang
There they stood with freezing feet.
Let us by the fire, etc.

Nuns in frigid cells
At this holy tide
For want of something else
Christmas songs at times have tried.
Let us by the fire, etc.

Washerwomen old,
To the sound they beat,
Sing by rivers cold
With uncovered heads and feet.
Let us by the fire, etc.

Who by the fireside stands
Stamps his feet and sings;
But he who blows his hands
Not so gay a carol brings.
Let us by the fire, etc.