Within the Octave of Christmas

The wan, weak winter sun has long since set
And on the edge of stars a merry fire
Sends sparks to play among the tinseled frost
That decorates the fields for Christmas-time.
Within this holy octave happy men
Concelebrate with beer, cigars, and jokes
This liturgy of needful merriment

Because

The Holy Child is safe in Mary’s Arms
Saint Joseph leans upon his staff and smiles
The shepherds now have gone to count their sheep
And all are safe from Herod for a time.

Our Christmas duty now is to delight
In Him who gives us joy this happy night.