A Christmas present is easy to make,
But a token of friendship should follow,
Mine is enclosed in the turkey you take,
Which is solid proof it is not hollow.
As a toothsome sign of love it is sent,
And to show you what our Maker can do,
He tells us to love with earnest intent,
And has provided this turkey for you.
Take it, and bake it, then richly enjoy,
And forget not the friend you befriended,
Whose heart will ever remember with joy,
The kind assistance you promptly lended.
May God bless you and your family dear,
And keep all of you healthy and happy,
That you may gladly welcome each New Year,
And on every Christmas be merry.
Ah, yes, another year with its rapid flight,
With its promised pleasures that deceive.
Another year with all its changes, great or slight,
Brings us to Christmas Eve.
My mind is wandering far away, -
May I not my dear Father grieve.
To my mind there rushes a brighter day.
Revived by Christmas Eve.
My mind is flighty, but my heart is true,
Dear Father, I'll look to thee.
For thou wilt kindly lead me through,
And guide me o'er Life's treacherous sea.
What dreams we have and how they fly
Like rosy clouds across the sky;
Of wealth, of fame, of sure success,
Of love that comes to cheer and bless;
And how they wither, how they fade,
The waning wealth, the jilting jade
The fame that for a moment gleams,
Then flies forever, - dreams, ah - dreams!
O burning doubt and long regret,
O tears with which our eyes are wet,
Heart–throbs, heart–aches, the glut of pain,
The somber cloud, the bitter rain,
You were not of those dreams - ah! well,
Your full fruition who can tell?
Wealth, fame, and love, ah! love that beams
Upon our souls, all dreams - ah! dreams.
Beautiful sun that giveth us light,
Beautiful moon that shineth by night,
Beautiful planets in the heaven so far,
Beautiful twinkle of each little star.
Beautiful waters so blue and so clear,
Beautiful sound of the surges we hear,
Beautiful brooklet, its ripples so sweet,
Beautiful flowers that bloom at our feet.
Beautiful springtime when all is delight;
Beautiful summer, so warm and so bright;
Beautiful autumn, with fruits and with grain;
Beautiful winter, with snowflakes again.
I love the dews of night;
I love the howling wind;
I love to hear the tempests sweep
O'er the billows of the deep!
For nature's saddest scenes delight
The melancholy mind.
Autumn! I love thy bower,
With faded garlands dressed;
How sweet alone to linger there
When tempests ride the midnight air!
To snatch from mirth a fleeting hour,
The Sabbath of the breast!
Autumn! I love thee well;
Though bleak thy breezes blow;
I love to see the vapors rise,
And clouds roll wildly round the skies,
Where from the plain the mountains swell.
And foaming torrents flow.
Autumn! thy fading flowers
Droop but to bloom again;
So man, though doomed to grief awhile,
To hang on Fortune's flckle smile,
Shall glow in heaven with nobler powers,
Nor sigh for peace in vain.
Without you, love, the day would hold no light,
The kindly stars would vanish from the night,
The flowers would forget to wake at morn,
The rose die sleeping, leaving but the thorn,
Without you.
Without you, love, no promise would be bright,
Hope's golden sun would darken at its height,
The world of all its glory would be shorn,
And I should be a wanderer, forlorn
Without you.
