Little Empty Stockings - song lyrics 
American Old-time song lyrics from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
LITTLE EMPTY STOCKINGS. Copyright, 1888, by Will H. Kennedy, Agent. Words And Music by Harry Kennedy. 
Hanging from the mantle-piece on every Christmas night Little empty stockings can be found; When the bells are ringing in the pale and frosty night Santa Claus is speeding o'er the ground, Climbing o'er the chimney tops, you'll see his chubby face, Heeding not the Wintry wind or snow; When the folks are fast asleep in every happy place, Santa Claus is always sure to go., Christmas bells! happy bells! Their song can never tire, What a world of happiness their jingle jangle tells, Little empty stockings by the fire; What a world of Happiness their jingle jangle tells, Little empty stockings by the fire. 
Chorus. Little empty stockings on a Christmas night Hanging from the mantle by the fire so bright; Little curly heads peeping from their beds Until their drooping eyelids tire. With the morning light they open wide their eyes, Santa Claus has come again, just hear their cries; Oh! what pretty things old Santa Claus he brings For little empty stockings by the fire. 
Hanging from the mantle-piece on every Christmas night Little empty stockings can be found; -Oh, what disappointment in the early morning light, Santa Claus forgot to come around; Little famished faces, how they ask with trembling voice: Mamma, why don't Santa Claus come here? From her slender store she cannot make their hearts rejoice, Mamma's only answer is a tear. Christmas bells! happy bells! They ring but once a year. How the heart is softened by that little childish voice: Mamma, why don't Santa Claus come here? Bid the wealthy listen to that little childish voice: Mamma, why don't Santa Claus come here? 
Chorus. Little empty stockings on a Christmas night, Little stockings empty in the morning light; Mamma, tell me why old Santa Claus went by And didn't till the stockings by the fire? Little empty stockings on a Christmas night, Little stockings empty in the morning light; Would I were a king, what treasures I would bring And fill the empty stockings by the fire.