Show Lest They forget. Hunt out the little lame jlrl. The poor boy who is blind; Hunt out the weary widow Who thinks the world dnklnd; Search down among the hovela Where gladness seldom strays. And teach the doubting people There still are Christmas days. You have been busy planning To spread your girts afar. To add your fair love-tokens Where joys and comforts are. But have you in your gladness Bestowed one kindly thought On those who sit In darkness. Whose crusts are dearly boughtt Your heart is full of kindness. You hear the anthems sung And gaze up at the windows Where ribboned wreaths are hunt;; You've heard the sweet old story With reverence retold But there are hungry children Where all Is dark and cold. Hunt out the little lame girt. The poor boy who Is blind; Hunt out the weary widow Who thinks the world unkind; Go down among the victims Of chance and greed and crlms And cause them to remember That this Is Christmas time. |