| Title/From | Begins | Poet |
| The Fairie Queene | And after him came next the chill December | Edmund Spenser |
| Marmion | Heap on more wood, the wind is chill | Sir Walter Scott |
| Morte D’Arthur | So all day long the noise of battle rolled | Alfred Lord Tennyson |
| The Oxen | Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock. | Thomas Hardy |
| Christmas at Sea | The sheets were frozen hard, | Robert Louis Stevenson |
| Journey of the Magi | A cold coming we had of it, | T S Elliot |
| The Darkling Thrush | I leant upon a coppice gate | Thomas Hardy |
| Auld Lang Syne | Should auld acquaintance be forgot, | Robert Burns |
