Our country house at Christmas time,
It was a pleasant sight,
The holly hung in every room,
The fires ere blazing bright;
As on the snow-clad hills around
Came down the winter night.
My little brother George and I
Stood watching at the door,
To see our uncle’s carriage come,
And greet our cousins four;
When a poor hungry boy came near
That only tatters wore.
He told how once his father toiled
But now was with the dead,
That there was sickness in his home
And bitter want of bread.
We gave him all our hoarded pence
For the sad words he said.
But when our cousins came at last
And there was mirth to see,
The gilded gifts and pretty toys
Hung on our Christmas tree;
I told my mother of the boy
And thus she said to me:-
‘’So much the more we owe to God,
For all that he hath given,
A ready mind to help the hands
That sore with want have striven,
Since they that are the poor on earth
May be the rich in heaven.