When Christmas Comes.

A poem by Freeman Edwin Miller

When Christmas comes, what pleasures spring
From drooping hearts on happy wing,
Like joyous birds that soaring rise
From hidden coverts to the skies.
And echo in the chimes that ring!

Glad millions in wild rapture sing
Hosannaed hopes of welcoming,
While praises blend in harmonies,
When Christmas comes.

Ah, happy hours! Around them cling
The dearest joys that life may bring,
And all the world's despairing cries
Are soothed to sleep with lullabies
That banish every bitter thing,
When Christmas comes!