His Christmas Presents
November 11th, 2007
By R. K. Munkittrick
I’ve got a lovely baseball and a bat
To make my spirits flow with feelings glad–
Alas! ah, little me! in spite of that,
At heart I’m very sad.
My mother, though she’s always more than kind,
Should more consistent and more thoughtful be.
I know her tender love for me is blind,
Or she would surely see
That it is never, never right at all,
Upon this bright and glorious Christmas day,
To give a lovely shining bat and ball
To gild my hours of play…
She won’t let me play ball in-doors–oh, dear,
The vases all as precious are as gold!
She won’t let me play ball out-doors, for fear
I’ll catch my death of cold.
From Harper’s Young People, 1894
NOTE: The vintage Christmas illustration above can be found in our clip art shop.
Entry Filed under: Christmas Poetry
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