Despite his status as one of England`s best loved poets, it appears that Alfred Lord Tennyson was in fact a festive grump.
This is from his “In Memoriam A.H.H.” written in 1849
With trembling fingers did we weave
The holly round the Chrismas hearth;
A rainy cloud possess’d the earth,
And sadly fell our Christmas-eve.
At our old pastimes in the hall
We gambol’d, making vain pretence
Of gladness, with an awful sense
Of one mute Shadow watching all.
We paused: the winds were in the beech:
We heard them sweep the winter land;
And in a circle hand-in-hand
Sat silent, looking each at each.
So whatever awaits you this Christmas – the tree falling down, the outbreak of food poisoning,, the unwanted presents, the drunken uncle and seemingly never ending turkey sandwiches -just remember it could be worse. You could have that bearded grouch Tennyson with you.
Merry Christmas to one and all !