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Guessing Time

It's guessing time at our house; every evening after tea
We start guessing what old Santa's going to leave us on our tree.
Everyone of us holds secrets that the others-try to steal,
And that eyes and lips are plainly having trouble to conceal.
And a little lip that quivered just a bit the other night
Was a sad and startling warning that I mustn't guess it right.

'Guess what you will get for Christmas!' is the cry that starts the fun.
And I answer: 'Give the letter with which the name's begun.'
Oh, the eyes that dance around me and the joyous faces there

Keep me nightly guessing wildly: 'Is it something I can wear?'
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