Beneath a spreading Christmas tree,
A little soldier stood,
And the little soldier kept watch from,
The turrets made of wood.

And as the children played around,
The spreading Christmas tree,
The little soldier kept watch,
As still as he could be.

And far across the room,
One little child took hold,
Of a little dancing lady,
All dressed in clothes of gold.

When the clock struck eight o’clock,
The little children three,
Ran to their mother,
And sat upon her knee.

And when the clock struck nine o’clock,
Mother to them said,
“Now my little darlings,
It’s time you were in bed.”

Mother said, “Now run along,
My little children three,”
And she turned off the lights upon,
The spreading Christmas tree.

And when the clock struck ten o’clock,
With the children tucked away,
The little dancing lady,
Before the castle lay.

The snow fell in the garden,
The snow fell in the town,
The little lady lay still,
In her little golden gown.

And when the clock inside the house,
Struck in the dead of night,
The fire in the hearth did roar,
And filled the room with light.

And the little coloured bulbs upon,
The little Christmas tree,
Sparkled like a rainbow, but
No one was there to see.

No one but the little soldier,
Who knew what the clock had said,
And the little dancing lady,
Who softly raised her head.

And then the little soldier,
Down castle stairs he ran,
He crossed the floor to the lady,
And offered her his hand.

“May I presume dear Lady,
A humble wretch like me,
To take your hand and dance with one,
Dressed in such finery?”

“I’ll never be a rich man,
And that is plain to see,
But if I had wealth I promise now,
I’d give it all to thee.”

“I know you’re not a rich man,
And that is plain to see,
For that I love you all the more,
And I shall dance with thee.”

The dancing Lady stood up tall,
The soldier took a bow,
And they danced before the firelight,
The best that they knew how.

And they danced before the firelight,
Until morning grew so near,
From the corner of the Lady’s eye,
She quickly brushed a tear.

“Why do you cry my Lady?
I had hoped to make you glad,
That we had shared this secret dance,
But now you look so sad.”

“I cry because the morning light,
Is never far away,
And we must part before we’re caught,
In the cold cold light of day.”

“Then follow me into the flames,”
The soldier pulled her hand,
“And we shall be together dear,
In a far off distant land.”

And so they crossed the wooden boards,
And stood before the fire,
The soldier kissed the Lady,
As the orange flames grew higher.

And then they danced into the flames,
Their souls grew high above,
And this story is told, just to prove,
Christmas is a time for love.