The Christmas tree!

The Christmas tree!

O gather around it now;

Its fruits are free

For you and for me,

And they hang from every bough.

Its flowers are bright,

And they grew in a night,

For yesterday it was bare

Did ever you see

An evergreen tree

So fruitful and so fair?

Look! here is a rose!

And who would suppose

An orange and a pear

Would grow by the side

Of the garden’s pride?

But here, you see, they are.

And, stranger yet,

Here’s a bon-bon, set

On the same identical stem,

With two plums, so big

That a neighboring fig

Seems lost in the shadow of them.

And here, what’s this?

As I live, ’tis a kiss,

And just where a kiss should be;

A tulip full blown,

Hard by it is shown—

Indeed, ’tis a wonderful tree.

Here, bravo! I’ve found

Merry’s Museum, bound—

This must be the Tree of Knowledge;

Besides which, behold!

All lettered in gold,

A poem fresh out from the college.

Hold! hold! my good sirs,

Here’s a nice set of furs—

’Tis a fir-tree, you all must agree;

And here, not incog.,

Is a sweet sugar-hog—

Does that make a mahogany-tree?

Oh! who would have guessed?

Here’s a nice little chest,

Of course ’tis a chestnut-tree;

Not so fast, cousin Knox,

Here’s a beautiful box—

A box-tree it surely must be.

Your proof something lacks,

For here is an ax.

You must own ’tis an axle-tree now;

Hallo! here’s a whip,

For your horsemanship—

’Tis a whipple-tree, then, you’ll allow.

What now shall be said?

Here are needles and thread—

Let’s see—shall we call it tre-mend(o)us?

Oh, pshaw! pray do stop,

I’m ready to drop—

Your puns are absurdly stupendous.