Its berries are red as a maiden's lip,
Its leaves are of changeless green ;
And any thing changeless now, I wis,
Is somewhat rare to be seen.
The holly, which fall and frost has borne,
The holly's the wreath for a Christmas morn. (Letitia Elizabeth Landon)

Its berries are red as a maiden's lip, Its leaves are of changeless green ; And any thing changeless now, I wis, Is somewhat rare to be seen. The holly, which fall and frost has borne, The holly's the wreath for a Christmas morn.

Letitia Elizabeth Landon

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