Last week Ross Carter kindly sent me an audio clip of the melody Barbara composed for her 1925 Christmas card. I had not heard the song played before and it was quite a joy. I decided to loop the mp3 and add Barbara’s lyrics in my appallingly accented French. My apologies to Barbara.
On Christmas morn,
Children, first looking from the windows,
See how desolate and bleak the garden is.
Withered the flowers, butterflies flown,
Summer gone from the woods.