Saved by a storm and dug out from a drift:
I celebrate each time I hear your voice singing,
Our bed is an antique "full,"
rather old fashioned, high up and hard,
with spindles at the head and foot:
When Mary birthed Jesus ’twas in a cow’s stall
With wise men and farmers and shepherds and all
But high from...
The longest night
of the year
Down he came from up,
and in from out,
and here from there.