Читать книгу A Little Book of Christmas - Bangs John Kendrick - Страница 1

Whene'er I find a man who don't

Believe in Santa Claus,

And spite of all remonstrance won't

Yield up to logic's laws,

And see in things that lie about

The proof by no means dim,

I straightway cut that fellow out,

And don't believe in him.

The good old Saint is everywhere

Along life's busy way.

We find him in the very air

We breathe day after day —

Where courtesy and kindliness

And love are joined together,

To give to sorrow and distress

A touch of sunny weather.

We find him in the maiden's eyes

Beneath the mistletoe,

A-sparkling as the star-lit skies

All golden in their glow.

We find him in the pressure of

The hand of sympathy,

And where there's any thought of love

He's mighty sure to be.

So here's to good old Kindliheart!

The best bet of them all,

Who never fails to do his part

In life's high festival;

The worthy bearer of the crown

With which we top the Saint.

A bumper to his health, and down

With them that say he ain't!