Edgar Albert Guest Christmas Poems

Here's to you, little mother,
With your boy so far away;
May the joy of service smother
All your grief this Christmas day;
...

A man is at his finest towards the finish of the year;
He is almost what he should be when the Christmas season's here;
Then he's thinking more of others than he's thought the months before,
...

He little knew the sorrow that was in his vacant chair;
He never guessed they'd miss him, or he'd surely have been there;
He couldn't see his mother or the lump that filled her throat,
...

Oh, we have shipped his Christmas box with ribbons red 'tis tied,
And he shall find the things he likes from them he loves inside,
But he must miss the kisses true and all the laughter gay
And he must miss the smiles of home upon his Christmas Day.
...

They've hung their stockings up with care,
And I am in my old arm chair,
And mother's busy dragging out
The parcels hidden all about.
...

They give their all, this Christmastide, that peace on earth shall reign;
Upon the snows of Flanders now, brave blood has left its stain;
With ribbons red we deck our gifts; theirs bear the red of pain.
...

BACK UP Old Age and Wrinkled Face,
Come, Selfish Grown-Up, quit the place,
You Pessimist, depart!
...

There's a little chap at our house that is being mighty good-
Keeps the front lawn looking tidy in the way we've said he should;
Doesn't leave his little wagon, when he's finished with his play,
On the sidewalk as he used to; now he puts it right away.
...

If I could have my wish to-night it would not be for wealth or fame,
It would not be for some delight that men who live in luxury claim,
But it would be that I might rise at three or four a. m. to see,
...

In the Christmas times of the long ago,
There was one event we used to know
That was better than any other;
It wasn't the toys that we hoped to get,
But the talks we had- and I hear them yet-
Of the gift we'd buy for Mother.
...

IT'S HO for the holly and laughter and kisses,
It 's ho for the mistletoe bough in the hall!
Was ever a season so jolly as this is?
No, this is the jolliest one of them all.
...

I DO not care to wait until the hand of death has smoothed your brow
Before I say what's in my heart, I'd rather tell it to you now.
I'd rather say: 'How glad I am to know your cheery voice and smile,'
Than stand and say 'how glad I was' in some grief-stricken after-while.
...

Here's to you, little mother,
With your boy so far away;
May the joy of service smother
...

God bless you all this Christmas Day
And drive the cares and griefs away.
Oh, may the shining Bethlehem star
...