Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, WHAT THE THREE LITTLE STOCKINGS SAID, by ALICE J. WHITNEY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

WHAT THE THREE LITTLE STOCKINGS SAID, by                    
First Line: Twas the night before christmas, and small stockings three
Last Line: And on each merry christmas she welds it anew.
Subject(s): Children; Christmas; Crime & Criminals; Gifts & Giving; Santa Claus; Childhood; Nativity, The; Nicholas, Saint


'TWAS the night before Christmas, and small stockings three
Were hung where good Santa Claus surely would see;
Then three tired children went early to bed
To dream of his coming with reindeer and sled.

There was Bessie, the baby, with ringlets of gold,
Who believed every word as the story was told,
How when all were asleep and the house was quite still,
He came down the chimney, the stockings to fill.

Then Freddie, who hoped he would get a new sled,
With shiny steel runners and top painted red;
And Winnie, perplexed lest a stocking so small
Could not hold what she wished for, a big jointed doll.

The night had crept on to the hours which are wee,
And the children were sleeping as sound as could be,
When a figure came crouching, dark lantern in hand,
But surely not he for whose visit they planned.

For not down the chimney with presents came he,
But through the front door with a skeleton key,
Stole softly upstairs, and with quick, furtive glance,
Straight into the children's room blundered by chance.

He flashed the dark lantern, its circular glow
Showed three tiny stockings hung up in a row;
He stood as if dazed or transfixed by the sight,
Then fled with swift footsteps back into the night.

God's ways are mysterious, when dealing with men,
And the means ofttimes used far beyond human ken;
So in that quiet chamber a sermon was read,
For this, to the robber, the three stockings said:

"Look back on the farmhouse and hours filled with joy,
Which blessed you in childhood, a free, happy boy;
Mark the long years between, steeped in misery and crime!
Will your heart let you steal in this glad Christmas time?

"Aye! think of your mother, her head bowed in shame
For the son she would give up her all to reclaim,
Of your father, who sleeps 'neath the old churchyard sod,
And reflect that your hand heaped the funeral clod!

"Then your dear little sister, who left all below,
While you were an innocent child, does she know?
And your brother, who answered his country's loud call,
In defence of "old glory," so early to fall.

"You remember, on Christmas eve, long, long ago,
How three little stockings hung, all in a row,
While three merry elves watched the huge back-log blaze?
How much would you give to bring back those glad days?"

The children woke early, and ran, every one,
To find good old Santa Claus' work was well done;
They were so glad he found them, and, as for the rest,
Not a trace was there left of the unbidden guest.

The bold robber was whelmed in the same wave of love
That compassed the children from heaven above;
It awakened his conscience, on purpose, no doubt,
That the three little stockings might put him to rout.

When peace and good-will came to save men from sin,
Through the babe in the manger in Bethlehem's inn,
Love circled the earth with her chain strong and true,
And on each merry Christmas she welds it anew.





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