"The Tragedy of the Christmas Tree" by John T. Birge (1926)

"The Tragedy of the Christmas Tree."

BY JOHN T. BIRGE.

'Twas the month before Christmas;

        On mountain slope high

Stood a dear little pine tree

        Erect toward the sky.

In the breeze swayed its branches,

        All glistening with snow;

To itself said the pine tree:

        "How big will I grow?"

'Twas the night before Christmas;

        By yule log and fire

Stood our dear little pine tree

        In Christmas attire.

More erect now than ever,

        And proud to be there,

To bring cheer to the children

        When morning breaks fair.

'Twas the month after Christmas;

        All broken and brown

On top of the ash can

        It rides through the town.

There are lives like that pine tree,

        All shattered and torn,

That once brought the sunshine

        To hearts all forlorn.

Did the tree fail its mission?

        Those lives are they naught?

No! there's nothing been wasted

        That's happiness brought.

So the tree grows forever;

        Immortal those lives;

With no verdict of failure

        In God's great assize.

Troy Times. December 31, 1926