christmas poems

in their ragged regimentals
all those treasures that lie
sweet with fern and rose
i know not where
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
i stood by the open casement
my mother taught me that every night
long has the summer sunlight shone
had he and i but met
and my name is truthful
there is a city, builded by no hand
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens