<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117563" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Christmas</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mother, when christmas comes once more,<br>I do not wish that you<br>Should buy sweet things for me again,<br>As you were used to do:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The taste of cakes and sugar-plums<br>Is pleasant to me yet,<br>And temptingly the gay shops look,<br>With their fresh stores outset.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But I have learn'd, dear mother,<br>That the poor and wretched slave<br>Must toil to win their sweetness,<br>From the cradle to the grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when he faints with weariness<br>Beneath the torrid sun,<br>The keen lash urges on his toil,<br>Until the day is done.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But when the holy angels’ hymn,<br>On Judea's plains afar,<br>Peal'd sweetly on the shepherds’ ear,<br>'Neath Bethlehem's wondrous star,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They sung of glory to our God,—<br>“Peace and good will to men,”—<br>For Christ, the Saviour of the world,<br>Was born amidst them then.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And is it for His glory, men<br>Are made to toil,<br>With weary limbs and breaking hearts,<br>Upon another's soil?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That they are taught not of his law,<br>To know his holy will,<br>And that He hates the deed of sin,<br>And loves the righteous still?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And is it peace and love to men,<br>To bind them with the chain,<br>And sell them like the beasts that feed<br>Upon the grassy plain?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To tear their flesh with scourgings rude,<br>And from the aching heart,<br>The ties to which it fondliest clings,<br>For evermore to part?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And 't is because of all this sin, my mother,<br>That I shun<br>To taste the tempting sweets for which<br>Such wickedness is done.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If men to men will be unjust, if slavery must be,<br>Mother, the chain must not be worn; the scourge<br>be plied for me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Elizabeth+Margaret+Chandler">Elizabeth Margaret Chandler</a> from <i>Poetical Works</i><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117563" data-title="Christmas de Elizabeth Margaret Chandler" data-description="Mother, when christmas comes once more,/I do not wish that you/Should buy sweet things for me again,/As you were used to do:/The taste of cakes and sugar-plums/Is pleasant to me yet,/And temptingly the gay shops look,/With their fresh stores outse..."></div> </div> </div>

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