Sarah D. Bowditch
Amid the world's gay throngs to-night
There's mirth and festive glee;
But none amid those hearts so light
Will cast one glimpse on me.
No ray from Hope's bright star is cast
To this lone isle of the sea;
And lonely and sad the Christmas has passed,
And left no mirth for me.
There's many a friend that once caressed,
As merry as merry can be;
But, ah! the one that I love best
Will forget to think of me.
Then turn my soul away from earth;
Look upward still, and see
The stars that shine on the halls of mirth
As brightly beam on thee.
Then let me not murmur at my fate,
Though lonely and sad I may be,
For the angels whose birth we celebrate,
Brought "tidings of joy" to me.
We have found this poem on the Long Island Chapter of the U.S. Lighthouse Society, based in Cutchogue.