The Christmas Tree
The Christmas tree!
The Christmas tree!
O gather around it now;
Its fruits are free
For you and for me,
And they hang from every bough.
Its flowers are bright,
And they grew in a night,
For yesterday it was bare
Did ever you see
An evergreen tree
So fruitful and so fair?
Look! here is a rose!
And who would suppose
An orange and a pear
Would grow by the side
Of the garden’s pride?
But here, you see, they are.
And, stranger yet,
Here’s a bon-bon, set
On the same identical stem,
With two plums, so big
That a neighboring fig
Seems lost in the shadow of them.
And here, what’s this?
As I live, ’tis a kiss,
And just where a kiss should be;
A tulip full blown,
Hard by it is shown—
Indeed, ’tis a wonderful tree.
Here, bravo! I’ve found
Merry’s Museum, bound—
This must be the Tree of Knowledge;
Besides which, behold!
All lettered in gold,
A poem fresh out from the college.
Hold! hold! my good sirs,
Here’s a nice set of furs—
’Tis a fir-tree, you all must agree;
And here, not incog.,
Is a sweet sugar-hog—
Does that make a mahogany-tree?
Oh! who would have guessed?
Here’s a nice little chest,
Of course ’tis a chestnut-tree;
Not so fast, cousin Knox,
Here’s a beautiful box—
A box-tree it surely must be.
Your proof something lacks,
For here is an ax.
You must own ’tis an axle-tree now;
Hallo! here’s a whip,
For your horsemanship—
’Tis a whipple-tree, then, you’ll allow.
What now shall be said?
Here are needles and thread—
Let’s see—shall we call it tre-mend(o)us?
Oh, pshaw! pray do stop,
I’m ready to drop—
Your puns are absurdly stupendous.