Christmas Toys.

Say, I like toys,
    Christmas toys.
Remember when we were boys
    Long ago?
Then you were a kid
    Not a beau.
And on Christmas Day,
    Oh, say,
We got up in the dark
    And had a jolly lark
Round the fire.
    The cold air was shocking
As we peeped in our stocking--
    And, way down in the toe,
Now say this is so--
    Dad placed a dollar.
Made me holler.
    Yes, sirree,

They were good to me.
    Remember Jim?
Mean trick I did him.
    You know Jim was surly?
Well I got up early
    Took his dollar out,
And put a rock
    In his sock.
Gee, he was mad,
    Went and told dad;
But dad he just laughed
    And said:
Might's well be dead
    If you couldn't have fun.
Then for spite,
    I kept that dollar 'til night.
Funny, seein' these toys
    Made me think of us boys.
But now, Gee!
    Christmas ain't like it used to be.

Edwin C. Ranck

Edwin C. Ranck was an American lyricist noted for his work in the early 20th century. He was a prolific writer and his lyrics were often characterized by their humor and wit. One of his standout works is the poem 'The Optimist', which reflects his positive outlook on life. Beyond that, little is known about his personal life or career. He remains a somewhat obscure figure in literary history.

Edwin C. Ranck

Now There's A Coon In The Moon.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

Keep Tryin'.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

A New Version.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

L'Envoi.

Edwin C. Ranck, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

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A Christmas Memory

Pa he bringed me here to stay
    'Til my Ma she's well. - An' nen
He's go' hitch up, Chris'mus-day,
    An' come take me back again
Wher' my Ma's at! Won't I be
Tickled when he comes fer me!

My Ma an' my A'nty they
    'Uz each-uvver's sisters. Pa -
A'nty telled me, th' other day, -
    He comed here an' married Ma....
A'nty said nen, "Go run play,
    I must work now!" ... An' I saw,
When she turn' her face away,
    She 'uz cryin'. - An' nen I
    'Tend-like I "run play" - an' cry.

This-here house o' A'nty's wher'
They 'uz borned - my Ma an' her! -
An' her Ma 'uz my Ma's Ma,
An' her Pa 'uz my Ma's Pa -


Ain't that funny? - An' they're dead:
An' this-here's "th' ole Homestead." -
An' my A'nty said, an' cried,

James Whitcomb Riley

Christmas Treasures

I count my treasures o'er with care.--
The little toy my darling knew,
A little sock of faded hue,
A little lock of golden hair.

Long years ago this holy time,
My little one--my all to me--
Sat robed in white upon my knee
And heard the merry Christmas chime.

"Tell me, my little golden-head,
If Santa Claus should come to-night,
What shall he bring my baby bright,--
What treasure for my boy?" I said.

And then he named this little toy,
While in his round and mournful eyes
There came a look of sweet surprise,
That spake his quiet, trustful joy.

And as he lisped his evening prayer
He asked the boon with childish grace;
Then, toddling to the chimney-place,
He hung this little stocking there.

That night, while lengthe...

Eugene Field

Speakin' O' Christmas

Breezes blowin' middlin' brisk,
Snow-flakes thro' the air a-whisk,
Fallin' kind o' soft an' light,
Not enough to make things white,
But jest sorter siftin' down
So 's to cover up the brown
Of the dark world's rugged ways
'N' make things look like holidays.
Not smoothed over, but jest specked,
Sorter strainin' fur effect,
An' not quite a-gittin' through
What it started in to do.
Mercy sakes! it does seem queer
Christmas day is 'most nigh here.
Somehow it don't seem to me
Christmas like it used to be,--
Christmas with its ice an' snow,
Christmas of the long ago.
You could feel its stir an' hum
Weeks an' weeks before it come;
Somethin' in the atmosphere
Told you when the day was near,
Did n't need no almanacs;
That was one o' Na...

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Christmas Time.

    How sweet the brazen belfries chime
        Across the hills and through the dales,
        And o'er the breasts of meadowed vales,
    Beneath the smiles of Christmas time!
    Rough sorrow's thorny fingers grow
        As soft and waxen as a child's,
        And balmy pleasures o'er the wilds
    Chant music to the drifting snow.

    Ah, scattered locks that fringe my face,
        With wintry wisps of white and gray!
        Ah, sad, dimmed eyes that look away
    To artless childhood's tender grace!
    To-night those years with joys sublime
        Steal over me and fill my soul
        With lullabies of bliss that roll
    The golden glees of Christmas time.

    Again I live in wondrous days,
        When baby hands with chubby glee<...

Freeman Edwin Miller

Jest 'Fore Christmas

Father calls me William, sister calls me Will,
Mother calls me Willie, but the fellers call me Bill!
Mighty glad I ain't a girl - ruther be a boy,
Without them sashes, curls, an' things that's worn by Fauntleroy!
Love to chawnk green apples an' go swimmin' in the lake -
Hate to take the castor-ile they give for bellyache!
'Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain't no flies on me,
But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be!

Got a yeller dog named Sport, sick him on the cat;
First thing she knows she doesn't know where she is at!
Got a clipper sled, an' when us kids goes out to slide,
'Long comes the grocery cart, an' we all hook a ride!
But sometimes when the grocery man is worrited an' cross,
He reaches at us with his whip, an' larrups up his hoss,

Eugene Field

Nothing To Do

Don't know what to do to-day.
Got so many things to do
I can't do them. Want to play,
But my toys are all too new
I don't like to play with them:
Blocks and paints and dogs and guns;
Watch that winds up by the stem;
And a train of cars that runs
Round a track and far away.
Don't know what to do to-day.
Don't know what to do to-day.

Whether just to stand and look
At my Christmas-tree, or stay
Looking at my picture-book
Full of fairy stories; or
Ask to have them read to me;
Or to bother mother for
Something off the Christmas-tree:
I don't know and I can't say
Don't know what to do to-day.
Don't know what to do to-day.

Never can make up my mind.
I could take my new red sleigh
And go sleighing on behind
Some old ...

Madison Julius Cawein