A Mistletoe Maid
by Irving
I kissed her--yes, I did--beneath
The mystic mistletoe
When Christmas bells were pealing out
Across the drifted snow.
She was a maiden sweet to see
And just my style to boot,
And so upon her ruby lips
I placed a swift salute.
For she had twined the berried
bough
On chandelier and wall,
And wreathed it all around the door,
And draped it in the hall,
And pinned it to the picture frames,
And hung it on the latch,
And tucked it in her hair, and so
I had to toe the scratch.
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