In Other Words/On Christmas Day in the Morning
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For works with similar titles, see On Christmas Day in the Morning.
“On Christmas Day in the Morning”
Dreary the room where dun Despair
Sits unmoved in a broken chair;
Sad is the home where Want, confessed,
Comes to the board a daily guest;
And a woman sits and gazes and weeps
As Innocence in the cradle sleeps.
Bitter and hot are the woman’s tears,
And strong with the salt of hopeless years,
And her heart is heavy with Dread and Hate
And she questions Justice whose name is Fate;
And she wonders, too, at the will to live,
As she thinks of the things she cannot give.
Sits unmoved in a broken chair;
Sad is the home where Want, confessed,
Comes to the board a daily guest;
And a woman sits and gazes and weeps
As Innocence in the cradle sleeps.
Bitter and hot are the woman’s tears,
And strong with the salt of hopeless years,
And her heart is heavy with Dread and Hate
And she questions Justice whose name is Fate;
And she wonders, too, at the will to live,
As she thinks of the things she cannot give.
And the woman weeps in her selfish woe,
But the grief of another she may not know—
The grief of another she knows not of—
Who hath nowhither to give her love.
But the grief of another she may not know—
The grief of another she knows not of—
Who hath nowhither to give her love.