Christmas.
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I will stretch myself part over thee,
These thin rags scarcely cover thee.
Oh the night, the night is fearful!
Bitter Christmas!
These thin rags scarcely cover thee.
Oh the night, the night is fearful!
Bitter Christmas!
Yes, the nights are very fearful,
Now 'tis Christmas.—
I keep thinking of other days,
Of our Christmas hearth in a blaze,
Of the sweetest time in my life,
When I'd been one year a wife,
And thou wert a baby, dearest!
Happy Christmas!
Now 'tis Christmas.—
I keep thinking of other days,
Of our Christmas hearth in a blaze,
Of the sweetest time in my life,
When I'd been one year a wife,
And thou wert a baby, dearest!
Happy Christmas!
I was only a baby then,
On that Christmas—
Thou wert only a babe at the breast,
But the sweetest, dearest, best!
Thy father might weary of me.
But how could he stray from thee?
Boy, he has left us to perish!
What a Christmas!
On that Christmas—
Thou wert only a babe at the breast,
But the sweetest, dearest, best!
Thy father might weary of me.
But how could he stray from thee?
Boy, he has left us to perish!
What a Christmas!
