The Christmas Tree

The Christmas Tree.

(Recitation for a boy to give before a Christmas tree is dismantled.)

Of all the trees in the woods and fields

There's none like the Christmas tree;

Tho' rich and rare is the fruit he yields,

The strangest of trees is he.

Some drink their fill from the shower or rill;

No cooling draught needs he;

Some bend and break when the storms awake,

But they reach not the Christmas tree.

When wintry winds thro' the forests sweep,

And snow robes the leafless limb;

When cold and still is the ice-bound deep,

O this is the time for him.

Beneath the dome of the sunny home,

He stands with all his charms;

'Mid laugh and song from the youthful throng,

As they gaze on his fruitful arms.

There's golden fruit on the Christmas tree,

And gems for the fair and gay;

The lettered page for the mind bears he,

And robes for the wintry day.

And there are toys for the girls and boys;

And eyes that years bedim

Grow strangely bright, with a youthful light,

As they pluck from the pendant limb.