Yuletide O sing, O earth, of winter’s turning, Of darkest night, of solstice burning. The Yule log blazes, sparks ascend, The wheel of seasons turns again. Germanic tribes in frost and flame, Feasted midwinter, in Odin’s name. Bonfires roared, the mead was poured, The sun reborn, the year restored. Rome rejoiced in Saturn’s reign, With revels wild and loosened chain. Masters served, the dice were cast, A festival to outlive the past. Evergreens in halls were hung, Symbols of life when death came young. Mistletoe with magic bound, Sacred rites the tribes had found. Then later came a borrowed frame, A holy birth, a newer name. Yet underneath the hymns and creed, The solstice fire still feeds the seed. So lift your voice, both old and true, Canticle of ancient Yule. For in the darkest night we see, The sun reborn eternally.
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