CHRISTMAS PAST
Once, for their mysterious filling,
We our empty stockings brought,
And warm hands,—so gladly willing
All we dreamed, to being wrought.
Now, tonight, our hearts are lonely,
And in anguish vainly cry
For those vanished forms who, only
Can their emptiness supply!
We our empty stockings brought,
And warm hands,—so gladly willing
All we dreamed, to being wrought.
Now, tonight, our hearts are lonely,
And in anguish vainly cry
For those vanished forms who, only
Can their emptiness supply!
Oh, dear Lord! our patient Father,
Thou will not our weeping chide,
That the days we used to gather
All at home, at Christmastide,
We remember?—That e'en nearer
Than our joy our sorrow seems?
For through tears see we not clearer
Heaven's Real for Earthly Dreams?
Thou will not our weeping chide,
That the days we used to gather
All at home, at Christmastide,
We remember?—That e'en nearer
Than our joy our sorrow seems?
For through tears see we not clearer
Heaven's Real for Earthly Dreams?
There we all—again united—
Shall to Thee our praises pay,
For the joys of Heaven, plighted
To earth's hopes on Christmas Day!
Shall to Thee our praises pay,
For the joys of Heaven, plighted
To earth's hopes on Christmas Day!
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