C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
To the Passing Saint: Christmas
By Eugene Field (18501895)
A
Bearing earthward heavenly joy,
Tell me, O dear saint, I pray,
Did you see my little boy?
Once he wandered from my sight;
He is such a little child,
He should have my love this night.
Oh, so many a year since then!
Yet he was so very dear;
Surely he will come again.
One whose beauty is divine,
Will you send him back to me?
He is lost, and he is mine.
Nestles where the sunbeams meet;
That the shoes he used to wear
Yearn to kiss his dimpled feet;
That was wont to share his glee;
Maybe that will bring my boy
Back to them, and back to me.
Through the glad and sparkling frost,
Bid those bells ring high and low
For a little child that’s lost!
With the grace of Christmas joy,
Soothe this heart with love again,—
Give me back my little boy!