  Let working-clothes be laid aside, And Industry in festal garb arrayed; Let busy brain and hand from toil and trade Relax at Christmas-tide. As moments pass by dial, so Let gifts go round the happy circle where And mutual kindness show. The meaning deep, like mystery, That lies in holly-bough or mistletoe, May thousands never fathom—yet who know And hail the Christmas-tree. So strong a hold on human thought Has this glad day that seasons all the year With the rich flavoring of hearty cheer, It ne'er shall be forgot. It is the milestone on life's road Where we may lay our burdens down, and take A look at souvenirs, for love's dear sake So prettily bestowed. Upon its shining tablet we may write— If, like the good Samaritan, in deed— A record that the angel band shall read With impulse of delight. And this is why on Christmas morn The world should smile and wear its brightest glow: Because some nineteen hundred years ago A little child was born. |
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