I DO not care to wait until the hand of death has smoothed your brow
Before I say what’s in my heart, I’d rather tell it to you now.
I’d rather say: ‘How glad I am to know your cheery voice and smile,’
Than stand and say ‘how glad I was’ in some grief-stricken after-while.
I’d rather shout: ‘how good you are!’ than sniffle out: ‘how good was he!’
And so I take this Christmas Day to say you have a friend in me.
And so I take this Christmas Day to wish you everything that’s fine,
A cloudless sky for every day, a path where roses bloom and twine;
May sorrow never find your door, but if it shall and leave you dumb,
May to your wounds of grief the balm of consolation quickly come.
May all the best of life be yours, and may, no matter where you roam,
Good luck and gladness go with you, and smiling, bring you safely home.
If wishing only banished care you’d never more have cause to sigh,
If wishing drove the clouds away henceforth the blue would fill your sky.
The pink of health would bloom upon the cheeks of those you love for aye,
And every day God gives to you would be a merry Christmas Day.
I’d wish you everything that’s good, I’d wish you everything that’s fine,
And then I’d still be in your debt, oh good and faithful friend of mine.