The Same Dear Hand

A poem about Christmas by Eugene Field that reflects on the feeling of Christmas and being with someone you love over the years. A great poem to share with that special someone in your life.

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The Same Dear Hand
Poet: Eugene Field

The bells ring out a happy sound,
The earth is mantled o'er with white,
It is the merry Christmas night.
And love, and mirth, and joy abound.
And here sit you and here sit I  -
I should be happiest in the land.
For oh! I hold the same dear hand
I've held for many a year gone by.

It is not withered up with care   -
It is as fresh and fair to see   -
As sweet to hold and dear to me
As when with chimes upon the air.
On Christmas nights of years ago
I held the same dear little thing.
And felt its soft caresses bring
The flushes to my throbbing brow.

Ah, we were born to never part -
This little hand I hold to-night,
And I - so with strong delight
I press it to my beating heart.
And in the midnight solemn hush,
I bless the little hand I hold -
In broken whispers be it told -
It is the old time bob-tail flush.

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Another poem by Eugene Field:

Bethlehem-Town
By Eugene Field

As I was going to Bethlehem-town,
Upon the earth I cast me down
All underneath a little tree
That whispered in this wise to me:
"Oh, I shall stand on Calvary
And bear what burthen saveth thee!"

As up I fared to Bethlehem-town,
I met a shepherd coming down,
And thus he quoth: "A wondrous sight
Hath spread before mine eyes this night,--
An angel host most fair to see,
That sung full sweetly of a tree
That shall uplift on Calvary
What burthen saveth you and me!"

And as I gat to Bethlehem-town,
Lo! wise men came that bore a crown.
"Is there," cried I, "in Bethlehem
A King shall wear this diadem?"
"Good sooth," they quoth, "and it is He
That shall be lifted on the tree
And freely shed on Calvary
What blood redeemeth us and thee!"

Unto a Child in Bethlehem-town
The wise men came and brought the crown;
And while the infant smiling slept,
Upon their knees they fell and wept;
But, with her babe upon her knee,
Naught recked that Mother of the tree,
That should uplift on Calvary
What burthen saveth all and me.

Again I walk in Bethlehem-town
And think on Him that wears the crown.
I may not kiss His feet again,
Nor worship Him as did I then;
My King hath died upon the tree,
And hath outpoured on Calvary
What blood redeemeth you and me!



Footnote:
Eugene Field
Born: September 2, 1850
Died: November 4, 1985
Birthplace: St. Louis, Missouri
Profession: Writer
Best Known For: Childrens Poetry and his essays that were humorous



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