Page:Our American Holidays - Christmas.djvu/265

Rh He is the children's Christmas; They come without a call, To gather round the gracious Child, Who bringeth joy to all.

But who shall bring their Christmas Who wrestle still with life? Not grandsires, youths, or little folks, But they who wage the strife— The fathers and the mothers Who fight for homes and bread, Who watch and ward the living, And bury all the dead? Ah! by their side at Christmas-tide The Lord of Christmas stands: He smooths the furrows from their brow With strong and tender hands. "I take my Christmas gift," He saith, "From thee, tired soul, and he Who giveth to My little ones     Gives also unto Me."