Originally published in Howitt's Journal (William Lovett) vol.2 #52 (25 Dec 1847).
Gifts for the rich!—for they can give
Again; the poor can only thank.
A drum of figs for neighbour Jones,
Who goes so often to the Bank:
For Brown, a turkey and a hare,—
A very wealthy man is Brown:
The rich Miss Smith is breaking fast;
I'll send a brace of pheasants down.
I wonder, has she made her will?
And, if she would remember me,
Closing a long and useful life,
How apropos her end would be!
I'll send a brace of pheasants down,
And, though she is too ill to read,
The last new Christmas Book,—myself
Commending to the invalid.
Gifts for the rich, who never want!
Bring presents to the laden board;
Add to his store, who has enough,
Augmenting the abundant hoard.
Be worldly-wise, and Plenty's horn
Fill ever to an overflow;
But give no gifts to hungry need,
For what can need, in turn bestow?