Some years ago a Christmas gift
Was sent me, but alas!
It was a thing no use to me,
And so it came to pass,
On thrifty thoughts intent, I laid
It carefully away,
And sent it to a bosom friend
Of mine next Christmas Day.
Since then, as surely as the snows
In fleecy beauty fall,
And mistletoe and holly wreaths
Are hung upon the wall,
By mail, express, or messenger,
Each second year, alack!
When Christmas gifts are going round
I get that present back.
