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.