There’s holly on our lawn—all year
It grows, and when the Yuletide’s here
And others from the market bring,
We take from our tree’s burgeoning
And with each gleaming emerald spray
Our house is glad on Christmas day.
Throughout the year our holly tree
Tells of a Christmas that’s to be
And like its own rich evergreen
Keeps fresh the Yuletides that have been—
One—long ago near Galilee—
I’m glad we have a holly tree.