Tell me, tell me, smiling child,
what does Christmas mean to thee?
A stocking and a candy tree,
or is there something you see?
When in a winter smiling child,
and no wind to sigh mournfully;
if there are footsteps you see,
know HE waits on thee patiently.
Tell me, what is the present hour?
"A fruit cake and flowered spray",
where the now holds you in its power,
and no thought you'll go away?
And what is the future, smiling child,
an endless delight and cloudless sun,
a mighty fortress or meek and mild,
only a thought life has just begun?
Will you hold riches in high esteem,
and love and cheer you will scorn,
or is there a force of which to dream,
which will not vanish with the morn?
Follow the Christmas footsteps you see,
and embrace the strong out held hand,
you'll awake on Christmas day and be,
a cheerful child to love in HIS glory land. |
