Explore "Grandpa's Christmas" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In his great cushioned chair by the fender / An old man sits dreaming to-night, / His withered hands, licked by the tender / Warm rays of the red anthracite, / Are folded before him, all listless; / His dim eyes are fixed on the blaze, / While over him sweeps the resistless / Flood-tide of old days.
He hears not the mirth in the hallway, / He hears not the sounds of good cheer, / That through the old homestead ring alway / In the glad Christmas-time of the year. / He heeds not the chime of sweet voices / As the last gifts are hung on the tree. / In a long-vanished day he rejoices -- / In his lost Used-to-be.