Christmas Eve by Ella Rhoads Higginson

Straight thro’ a fold of purple mist
The sun goes down―a crimson wheel―
And like an opal burns the sea
That once was cold as steel.

With pomp of purple, gold and red,
Thou wilt come back at morrow’s dawn. . .
But thou can’st never bring, O Sun,
The Christmas that is gone!


Date: 1898

By: Ella Rhoads Higginson (1862-1940)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: