By Thomas Bailey Aldrich
JUST as the moon was fading Amid her misty rings, And every stocking was stuffed With childhood's precious things, Old Kriss Kringle looked round, And saw on the elm-tree bough, High-hung, an oriole's nest, Silent and empty now. "Quite like a stocking," he laughed, "Pinned up there on the tree! Little I thought the birds Expected a present from me!" Then old Kriss Kringle, who loves A joke as well as the best, Dropped a handful of flakes In the oriole's empty nest.
This poem was written by Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1836-1907) and is now in the public domain.