Blessed old Santa Claus! King of delights!
What are you doing these long winter nights?
Filling your budgets with trinkets and toys -
Wonderful gifts for the girls and the boys?
While you are planning for everything nice,
Pray let me give you a bit of advice.
Don't take it hard, if I say in your ear,
Santa, I think you were partial last year;
Loading the rich folks with everything gay,
Snubbing the poor ones who came in your way:
Now, of all times in the year, I am sure,
This is the time to remember the poor.
Little red hands that are aching with cold,
You should have mittens your fingers to hold;
Poor little feet, with your frost-bitten toes,
You should be clothed in the warmest of hose.
On the dark hearth I would kindle a light,
Till the sad faces were happy and bright.
Don't you think, Santa, if all your life through,
Some one had always been caring for you,
Watching to guard you by night and by day,
Giving you gifts you could never repay,
Sometimes, at least, you would sigh to recall
How many children have nothing at all?
Safe in your own quiet chamber at night,
Cozy and warm in your blankets so white,
Wouldn't you think of the shivering forms
Out in the cold and the wind and the storms?
Wouldn't you think of the babies who cry,
Pining in hunger and cold till they die?
Blessed old Nick! I was sure, if you knew it,
You would remember, and certainly do it;
This year, at least, when you open your pack,
Pray give a portion to all who may lack;
Then if you chance to have anything over,
Bring a small gift to your friend - Kitty Clover. |
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