A radiant presence by the lowly bed
Greeted the breaking day.

* * * * *

Within the long white ward one lay alone,
None watched by him awhile,
But some who passed him said, in whispered tone,
"See--on his lips--the smile!"




WHEN CHRISTMAS COMES

For thee, my small one--trinkets and new toys,
The wine of life and all its keenest joys,
When Christmas comes.
For me, the broken playthings of the past
That in my folded hands I still hold fast,
When Christmas comes.

For thee, fair hopes of all that yet may be,
And tender dreams of sweetest mystery,
When Christmas comes.
For thee, the future in a golden haze,
For me, the memory of some bygone days,
When Christmas comes.

For thee, the things that lightly come and go,