In the Christmas times of the long ago, <br />There was one event we used to know <br /> That was better than any other; <br />It wasn't the toys that we hoped to get, <br />But the talks we had- and I hear them yet- <br /> Of the gift we'd buy for Mother. <br /> <br />If ever love fashioned a Christmas gift, <br />Or saved its money and practiced thrift, <br /> 'Twas done in those days, my brother- <br />Those golden times of Long Gone By, <br />Of our happiest years, when you and I <br /> Talked over the gift for Mother. <br /> <br />We hadn't gone forth on our different ways <br />Nor coined our lives into yesterdays <br /> In the fires that smelt and smother, <br />And we whispered and planned in our youthful glee <br />Of that marvelous 'something' which was to be <br /> The gift of our hearts to Mother. <br /> <br />It had to be all that our purse could give, <br />Something she'd treasure while she could live, <br /> And better than any other. <br />We gave it the best of our love and thought, <br />And, Oh, the joy when at last we'd bought <br /> That marvelous gift for Mother! <br /> <br />Now I think as we go on our different ways, <br />Of the joy of those vanished yesterdays. <br /> How good it would be, my brother, <br />If this Christmas-time we could only know <br />That same sweet thrill of the Long Ago <br /> When we shared in the gift for Mother.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-christmas-gift-for-mother/
