In the tops of the ce­dars and pines,
A whis­per was heard sweet and low;
And each branch as it hears and in­clines,
Shakes off its fair bur­den of snow.
List! the whis­per says, Christ­mas is near;
The pines and the ce­dars all know
That they’ll aid in the joy and the cheer,
For this day they flour­ish and grow.

They have heard that their branch­es so green,
All lad­ened with sil­ver and gold,
To en­liv­en the fai­ry-like scene
Tinted can­dles abun­dant will hold.
While their fruits far more pre­cious and rare,
Than sum­mer or au­tumn can bring
Cause the child­ren, so hap­py and fair,
Their prais­es to shout and to sing.

Then the whis­per­ing turns to a song,
And catch­ing the wel­com­ing cheer,
They, too, for the Christ­mas-day long,
And joy to leave for­ests so drear.
As the eve of the year nears its close,
When ver­dure and flow­ers seem dead,
Then the ev­er­green calm in re­pose,
To Christ­mas and glad­ness is wed.