O hushed December midnight mild,
Thy lights have brightened to enthral;
Tomorrow’s snow, if it be piled,
Should hide them all.
The bulbs along the houses pall;
Lingering there we turn and go.
O hushed December midnight mild,
In shadows of this night aglow,
Make the dark seem to us less deep.
Hearts longing to be blanketed,
Blanket us in benighted snow.
We slumber at the break of day;
At noon we reach a deeper sleep;
Awake at night, a light display.
Dismiss the sun with slow descent;
Enchant the land as albescent.
Snow, snow!
For the stars’ sake, if they were all,
Whose bulbs already are burnt with frost,
Whose fragile glow must else be lost -
For the stars’ sake along the wall.

put them on the tree