Found the following poem in the above book. This is just the first verse, as it is very long
December. by John Clare.
'Glad Christmas comes, and every hearth
Makes room to give him welcome now,
E'en want will dry its tears in mirth,
And crown him with a holly bough;
Though tramping neath a winter sky,
O'er snowy paths and rimy styles
The housewife sets her spinning by
To bid him welcome with her smiles...'
Hope all your preparations are going to plan.