THE HAPPY TIME

Two gloomy scenes may be, Or count you three: A building hope all crushed at morn, A bridal day in clouds of rain, And night that keeps a mother's pain For tidings of a child forlorn.

Of happy times count more, Admit these four: A flower of promise rich with day, A son with victories that wear A halo on his mother's way: And friends whose hearts ring like a chime Across the world at Christmas time.