To The Next Christmas


Leído por LibriVox Volunteers

(4 stars; 1 reviews)

Thomas William Hodgson Crosland was a British author, poet, journalist and friend of royalty. Thomas was a humanitarian who frequently wrote in his poems about the impoverished and sick and unemployed, especially caring about returned soldiers in the First World War. - Summary by Wikipedia (0 hr 36 min)

Capítulos

To The Next Christmas - Read by AL 3:24 Leído por nighthawks
To The Next Christmas - Read by ALP 3:14 Leído por Algy Pug
To The Next Christmas - Read by BK 4:07 Leído por Bruce Kachuk
To The Next Christmas - Read by DL 3:18 Leído por David Lawrence
To The Next Christmas - Read by EDMR 3:03 Leído por Elanor
To The Next Christmas - Read by EL 3:22 Leído por Newgatenovelist
To The Next Christmas - Read by FS 3:05 Leído por fshort
To The Next Christmas - Read by MAS 3:48 Leído por MaryAnn
To The Next Christmas - Read by NR 3:26 Leído por Nemo
To The Next Christmas - Read by PS 2:51 Leído por Phil Schempf
To The Next Christmas - Read by TP 3:15 Leído por Tomas Peter

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(4 stars)

The text of the poem: My dear Next Christmas, It is an excellent journalistic thing, Not to say a poetical thing, To be first in the field. Behold me, therefore, advancing At the head of that motley army Which will inevitably hail you When your time comes. For your predecessor, My dear Next Christmas, I cannot say much. He came in with several thousand inches of rain; He went out on a watery moon. There was turkey as usual, Pudding as usual, Mistletoe as usual, Peace on earth as usual. There were also the waits, The young folks, The postman, The dustman (No connection with the scavengers), And the turncock. We had a merry day. Half the world pretended to be happy, The other half pretended to be bored. The festivities, I understand, Are still being kept up. There is a ping-pong tournament at the Queen's Hall And a children's banquet At the Guildhall on Tuesday evening; Not to mention Mr. Dan Leno at Drury Lane And Mr. De Wet at the Tweefontein. It is all very cheerful And very inspiriting. All the same, Let us not repine: Christmas comes but once a year, And it will come again, I fear. This couplet, of course. My dear Next Christmas, Is not intended to be Disrespectful to you; It is inserted simply For the sake of effect. For I never miss an opportunity Of bursting into rhyme. When the way is plain before me. My dear Next Christmas, Do not be discouraged, Come next year by all means; If I said "Don't come" You would come just the same. Therefore, I say "Come," And I trust, my dear Next Christmas, That when you do come You will bring us a little luck. Ring out the old, as it were, And ring in the new; Let candied peel Be a trifle cheaper; Let the war be settled To the satisfaction of both parties; Let the book trade flourish; Let the Income-tax be reduced: Let there be a fine Christmas Eve And dry waits, And a little skating next morning; Let there be peace and plenty, A pocket full of money, And a barrel full of beer, And all other good things, Including a free and enlightened Press, And a strong demand For seasonable poetry. My dear Next Christmas, Here is my hand, With my heart in it. Till we meet again- As Mr. Hall Caine says- Addio.