Four black eyes
Grow big with surprise;
And then grow bigger
When a tiny figure,
Jaunty and airy,
(Is it a fairy?)
From the tree-top cries,
"Open wide! Black Eyes!
Come, children, wake now!
Your joys you may take now!"

Quick as you can think
  Twenty small toes
  In four pretty rows.
Like little piggies pink,
  All kick in the air—
And before you can wink
  The tree stands bare!

When mother-love makes all things bright,
When joy comes with the morning light.
When children gather round their tree,
  Thou Christmas Babe,
  We sing of Thee!

When manhood's brows are bent in thought,
To learn what men of old have taught,