On Christmas Morn
On Christmas morn, mid din and stew,I sit me down a poem to brew.Now what to say or what to write—It must be big, it can’t be trite.So here it is—the line sublime:I love you as in olden time.
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On Christmas morn, mid din and stew,I sit me down a poem to brew.Now what to say or what to write—It must be big, it can’t be trite.So here it is—the line sublime:I love you as in olden time.
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