Volume 1 — THE APPROACH OF CHRISTMAS.
Reading edition
The time draws near the birth of Christ, The moon is hid, the night is still; A single church below the hill Is pealing, folded in the mist A single peal of bells below, That wakens at this hour of rest A single murmur in the breast, That these are not the bells I know Like strangers’ voices here they sound, In lands where not a memory strays, Nor landmark breathes of other days. But all is new unhallow’d ground. Tennyson’s “In Memoriam”.
[From Dickens’s Household Words.]