  OH, do you know Aunt Mary Ann, The dearest Aunt since time began, Aunt Kate, Aunt Jane, Aunt Edith Ellen, Aunt—oh, but never mind the spelling! She lives up North, she lives down South, Sweet are the kisses of her mouth; She lives out East, she lives out West, Bona puella Auntie est! Always about the time of year When Christmas Day is drawing near, Auntie goes in for treats and toys, And things, you know, for girls and boys. Then, with a smile upon her lips, She sits and thinks of tops and tips, And takes her pen and writes to us, My sister Fan, and me—that’s ’Gus. She walks Cheapside, she walks the Strand, And Paul’s Churchyard, with purse in hand, She looks at dolls, she looks at drums, And boxes full of bloomy plums. She goes and finds out picture books, And jewellery hung on hooks; She knows the games we like to play; She buys things, all to give away! The loveliest things in every part She goes and gets them all by heart, And then sits down, with time to think, And writes to us with pen and ink. I know her thoughts,—she thinks of us,— She thinks, “What would be nice for ’Gus?” She dips in Santa Klaus’s pouch: “What shall I send that scaramouch?” She keeps it dark, but writes to say She will be here for Christmas Day; And when I know that Aunt will come, Quam felix puer ego sum! |
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