You Are In Every Line I Have

Recollections Of The Past And Visions Of The Present Come To Bear Me Company; The Meanest Man To Whom I Have Ever Given Alms Appears, To Add His Mite Of Peace And Comfort To My Stock; And Whenever The Fire Within Me Shall Grow Cold, To Light My Path Upon This Earth No More, I Pray That It May Be At Such An Hour As This, And When I Love The World As Well As I Do Now.

Bleak, Dark, And Piercing Cold, It Was A Night For The Well-housed And Fed To Draw Round The Bright Fire, And Thank God They Were At Home; And For The Homeless Starving Wretch To Lay Him Down And Die. Many Hunger-worn Outcasts Close Their Eyes In Our Bare Streets At Such Times, Who, Let Their Crimes Have Been What They May, Can Hardly Open Them In A More Bitter World.

Come In, -- Come In! And Know Me Better, Man! I Am The Ghost Of Christmas Present. Look Upon Me! You Have Never Seen The Like Of Me Before!

If An Enthusiastic, Ardent, And Ambitious Man Marry A Wife On Whose Name There Is A Stain, Which, Though It Originate In No Fault Of Hers, May Be Visited By Cold And Sordid People Upon Her, And Upon His Children Also: And, In Exact Proportion To His Success In The World, Be Cast In His Teeth, And Made The Subject Of Sneers Against Him: He May, No Matter How Generous And Good His Nature, One Day Repent Of The Connection He Formed In Early Life; And She May Have The Pain And Torture Of Knowing That He Does So.

There Are Hopes, The Bloom Of Whose Beauty Would Be Spoiled By The Trammels Of Description; Too Lovely, Too Delicate, Too Sacred For Words, They Should Only Be Known Through The Sympathy Of Hearts.