Far from home thy Christ­mas keep­ing,
Sad through wea­ri­ness and pain,
Thou, per­chance, hast thought with weep­ing,
Christmas-time has come again!

Dreams of well re­mem­bered plac­es
Fill thy me­mo­ry to­day;
Longing thoughts of lov­ing fac­es—
Thoughts of dear ones far away.

Of the lit­tle ones who ga­ther
Round the fire the boughs to weave,
Happy homes where mo­ther, fa­ther,
Keep with them their Christ­mas Eve.

Of the days when thou wast sing­ing
Gleeful songs of oth­er times,
While across the fields came ring­ing
Far and near the Christ­mas chimes.

Say’st thou now, Those joys are ov­er;
Not for me those home de­lights;
Dark the clouds that o’er me ho­ver,
Lone the days and long the nights?

Chiming bells and hap­py voic­es
Fall but sad­ly on my ear;
All the world with­out re­joic­es;
They are glad—while I am here.

Are these sad words thine, oh, mourn­er?
And these drea­ry thoughts, my friend?
Listen, then, now to a mes­sage
Which home to thy heart we send.

In the words the wind came bring­ing
From the hush of qui­et room,
Where were voic­es softly sing­ing
In the twi­light’s ga­ther­ing gloom.

Sweet and clear we hear the mu­sic
Of a mes­sage ten­der, true,
That we now in Christ­mas sea­son
We would sing it forth to you.