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 hops, 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 watch 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.