Sherry offers a work by D. Gabriel Rossetti:

She fell asleep on Christmas Eve:

At length the long-ungranted shade

Of weary eyelids overweigh’d

The pain nought else might yet relieve. . . .

Also, Frank Wilson offers a piece he wrote last year:

The leaves are fallen, but the sky is clear

(Though winter’s scheduling an arctic flight).

The rumor is a rendezvous draws near. . . .

Words like these put me in the mood for a song. “Oh by golly, have a holly, jolly–” NOT THAT SONG. Something closer to the holiday will be better. Here’s part of one we sang tonight.

As with joyful steps they sped

To that lowly cradle bed,

There to bend the knee before

Him whom heaven and earth adore;

So may we with willing feet

Ever seek thy mercy-seat.

…

Holy Jesus, ev’ry day

Keep us in the narrow way;

And, when earthly things are past,

Bring our ransomed souls at last

Where they need no star to guide,

Where no clouds thy glory hide.