GOOD PRINCE HILARY
The king sat in his palace Afeasting merrily. And an old man stood at his doorstep. Begging woefully. For his home was burnt to cinders. And never a bed had he To lie down on that Christmas Eve; So he begged on bended knee. What cared the king for his poor serfs. That king so cruel and harsh. The snow is coming down full thick. “Go lie,” he said, “on the marsh.”
But the good Prince Hilary, his son, To the poor old man went out: “Come, you may use my bed chamber; You’ll find it warm, no doubt.” The prince, he slept all night on the fen. Next morn they found him. Dead? Not he! The frost and snow had been kept off By the warmth of his charity. —’MATE WATER SPRITE, 20 Cheltenham street, Merivale.
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Bibliographic details
Press, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22593, 24 December 1938, Page 8 (Supplement)
Word Count
140GOOD PRINCE HILARY Press, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22593, 24 December 1938, Page 8 (Supplement)
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