What matters though 'tis snowing,
Thanksgiving Day has come at last;
To grandmamma's were going.
Wrapped in furs as warm as toast,
O'er the hills we're fleeting;
To welcome friends, a merry host
And grandma's smile of greeting.
The sleigh bells jingle merrily,
And though the flakes are flying,
At last beyond the hills we see
A little mansion lying.
I'm sure we'll find sweet cakes and fruit
And pumpkin pies so yellow;
For grandma knows just how to suit
Each hungry little fellow.