Night before a Christmas morn – stars tarry;
Hymns carry a world so torn
To be saved by God's Yet-born.
Night before a Christmas morn – all is seen
Red and green. Our hearts, forsworn,
Still are gifts to God's Low-born.
Night before a Christmas morn – in the dark,
Holy spark. Candles have borne
Ev'ry soul to God's High-born.
(The memory of my first Christmas at Universalist National Memorial Church, at the impressive “Recessional of the Candles” during “Silent Night”. This is a version of the ancient Welsh form englyn penfyr. Please note that I am NOT a religious fundamentalist.)