Had a very beautiful Christmas tree;
And on it were hung the loveliest things,
Dolls, and sashes, and gloves, and rings,
Till nothing more, you would have thought,
Could possibly have been wished or sought.
But little Dorothy Dill Magee,
Although delighted as she could be,
Began to sob, to sniffle and cry
Because the day was so near passed by.
“I wish it was always Christmas Day,”