Not the roses freshly gathered
That she loved on earth so well;
But the fadeless bloom of Eden,
Amaranth and asphodel.
Not the shoes of mortal fashion
Wait the weary, wayworn feet;
Shod with peace, they step securely
On that shining upper street.
Not the fabric frail and misty
Resting on the silvered hair,
But the crown He gives his children,
Invisible, yet hovering there.
So comes grandma's Christmas morning,
Dawning soft and silently,
Bringing God's best gifts together,
Christ and Immortality.
"THE COMMON PEOPLE HEARD HIM GLADLY."
THE common people heard Him gladly;"
O tender words of life divine!
Where'er among thy blessed teachings
Runs there a sweeter, fairer line?
The Pharisee, with captious question,
Still doubted what He came to teach;
