Our eyes were opened wide and bright,
As we ran a race down the high old stair,
To see if "Santa" had been there,
And brought his bundle of toys with him,
And filled our stockings up to the brim?
But dear old "Santa" would always stop
And fill them full to the very top.
Then we'd away to the old hillside,
The country shoemaker's cot beside—
Just 'round the corner, near the wood,