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.