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Poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich Kriss Kringle Just as the moon was fading Amid her misty rings, And every stocking was stuffed With childhood’s precious things, Old Kriss Kringle looked around, And saw on the elm-tree bough, High hung, an oriole’s nest, Lonely and empty now. “Quite a stocking,” he laughed, “Hung up there on a tree! I didn’t suppose the birds Expected a present from me!” Then old Kriss Kringle, who loves A joke as well as the best, Dropped a handful of snowflakes Into the oriole’s empty nest. Thomas Bailey Aldrich Thomas Bailey Aldrich's other poems: 1213 Views |
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