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.
