I.
Ah! the happy Christmas times!
Times we all remember;—
Times that flung a ruddy glow
O'er the gray December;—
Will they never come again,
With their song and story?
Never wear a remnant more
Of their olden glory?
Must the little children miss
Still the festal token?
Must their realm of young romance
All be marred and broken?
Must the mother promise on,
While her smiles dissemble,
And she speaks right quietly,
Lest her voice should tremble:—
"Darlings! wait till father comes—
Wait—and we'll discover
Never were such Christmas times,
When the war is over!"