TO-DAY it's Christmas morning: we hear no Christmas bell,
But still we tell the story which once we loved to tell —
" Goodwill," " Goodwill" — we read it: and " Peace" — we hear the name,
And crouch among the ruins, and watch the cruel flame,
And hear the children crying, and turn our eyes away
For them there's neither bread nor home this happy Christmas day.

But look! there comes a message from far across the deep,
From hearts that still can pity, and eyes that still can weep —
O little lips a-hunger, O faces pale and wan,
There's somewhere, somewhere peace on earth, somewhere goodwill to man:
Across the waste of waters, a thousand leagues away,
There's some one still remembers that here it's Christmas day.

O God of Peace, remember, and in thy mercy keep
The hearts that still can pity, the eyes that still can weep:
Amid the shame and torment, the ruins and the graves,
To theirs, the land of freedom, from ours, the land of slaves,
What answer can we send them? — we can but kneel and pray —
God grant, God grant to them at least a happy Christmas day.