Dear mamma, I fink I’ve been a good boy,
Yes, precious, you are your mother’s great joy;
So now go to sleep, my darling, my Jack,
I just heard a noise; oh, Santa, go back,
And come in the morning, for sleep he needs more
Than all the fine toys in Santa’s great store;
And she tells of the Christ Child, so humble, so sweet,
That was born in a manger, Hail Thee, we greet.
In the morning, Jack woke up and rubbed his blue eyes;
I fink this is surely a great big surprise,
I never ’spected a tree, with lights red and blue,
A sled and some mittens, nuts, and candy, too;
I dest love old Santa; but I dreamed I had found
A dear little playmate, wif cheeks red and round,
All bundled up in your old blue shawl,
Without any hair, dest like a big doll;
Wish I could see Santa; oh, please, call him back,
And say he forgot a playmate for Jack.
Is Marriage a Failure?
Marriage is a problem, at least, so I have heard,
I hope you’ll kindly listen, for I, too, have a word;
But it was God’s own making; He ne’er can do a wrong;
He deals with us so gently, we know not He is among
Us when we are merely thinking; His Hand is not far away
To guide us to His wishes; though all seems bright as day.
Before you take the leap, think carefully and well;
Don’t be in any hurry, it may mean quite a spell.
Then, if you think a partner would to your blessings add,
A home and little children to love and to make glad;
Then make your resolutions, to stand while life shall last,
’Tis but human to err, forgive all that is past.
Though times be turbulent at first, forget it with a smile,
And say softly to yourself, ’twill be better after while;
Should either of you argue about a pretty face
At home, all sanctified with love, is wholly out of place.
What care I if the Sun is gray or blue or red,
All desires for argument, for love of you has fled.
If you are not blest with worldly goods, you may be blest with health,
For this I deem far greater than all your pompous wealth.
Your home should be your palace, if it be great or small,
And have sweet flowers blooming in the spring and in the fall;
A little trelliced nook, with creeping vines around,
Where the heart is ever glad to come, and where true love is found.
A man loves his home, a smile his path to cheer,
A few sweet spoken words, how easy and how clear;
And little arms a-twining around his great big heart,
To kiss and caress him—this is your happy part.
To love and to be loved, what greater happiness is there,
And all these will be yours, if you’ll see it right and square.
The days of bleak December, with its hoary white and gray,
A blessed little grandchild, do come with me and play;
To you the name of mother is given from above,
With little arms a-twining, sweet innocents of love.
No, marriage is not a failure. I’m simply here to prove
A home so full of sweetness is sanctified by love.
But it was God’s own making, He ne’er has done a wrong,
He deals with us so gently, we know not He is among
Us when we’re merely thinking, His hand is not far away
To guide us to His wishes though all is bright as day.