Ballads of Peace in War

THE HAPPY TIME

    Two gloomy scenes may be,
    Or count you three:
          A building hope all crushed at morn,
          A bridal day in clouds of rain,
          And night that keeps a mother's pain
          For tidings of a child forlorn.

    Of happy times count more,
    Admit these four:
          A flower of promise rich with day,
          A son with victories that wear
          A halo on his mother's way:
          And friends whose hearts ring like a chime
          Across the world at Christmas time.