They's a kind o' _feel_ in the air, to me. When the Chris'mas-times sets in. That's about as much of a mystery As ever I've run ag'in!-- Fer instunce, now, whilse I gain in weight And gineral health, I swear They's a _goneness_ somers I can't quite state-- A kind o' _feel_ in the air. [Illustration] They's a feel in the Chris'mas-air goes right To the spot where a man _lives_ at!-- It gives a feller a' appetite-- They ain't no doubt about _that_!-- And yit they's _somepin_'--I don't know what-- That follers me, here and there, And ha'nts and worries and spares me not-- A kind o' feel in the air! They's a _feel_, as I say, in the air that's jest As blame-don sad as sweet!-- In the same ra-sho as I feel the best And am spryest on my feet, They's allus a kind o' sort of a' _ache_ That I can't lo-cate no-where;-- But it comes with _Chris'mas_, and no mistake!-- A kind o' feel in the air. Is it the racket the childern raise?-- W'y, _no_!--God bless 'em!--_no_!-- Is it the eyes and the cheeks ablaze-- Like my _own_ wuz, long ago?-- Is it the bleat o' the whistle and beat O' the little toy-drum and blare O' the horn?--_No! no!_--it is jest the sweet-- The sad-sweet feel in the air. [Illustration] AS CREATED There's a space for good to bloom in Every heart of man or woman,-- And however wild or human, Or however brimmed with gall, Never heart may beat without it; And the darkest heart to doubt it Has something good about it After all. [Illustration] WHERE-AWAY O the Lands of Where-Away! Tell us--tell us--where are they? Through the darkness and the dawn We have journeyed on and on-- From the cradle to the cross-- From possession unto loss.-- Seeking still, from day to day, For the Lands of Where-Away. When our baby-feet were first Planted where the daisies burst, And the greenest grasses grew In the fields we wandered through,-- On, with childish discontent, Ever on and on we went, Hoping still to pass, some day, O'er the verge of Where-Away. Roses laid their velvet lips On our own, with fragrant sips; But their kisses held us not, All their sweetness we forgot;-- Though the brambles in our track Plucked at us to hold us back-- "Just ahead," we used to say, "Lie the Lands of Where-Away." Children at the pasture-bars, Through the dusk, like glimmering stars, Waved their hands that we should bide With them over eventide; Down the dark their voices failed Falteringly, as they hailed, And died into yesterday-- Night ahead and--Where-Away? Twining arms about us thrown-- Warm caresses, all our own, Can but stay us for a spell-- Love hath little new to tell To the soul in need supreme, Aching ever with the dream Of the endless bliss it may Find in Lands of Where-Away! [Illustration] [Illustration] DREAMER, SAY