The sky is dark, the snow descends: <br />Ring, bells, ring out your merriest chime! <br />Jesus is born; the Virgin bends <br />Above him. Oh, the happy time! <br />No curtains bright-festooned are hung, <br />To shield the Infant from the cold; <br />The spider-webs alone are slung <br />Upon the rafters bare and old. <br />On fresh straw lies the little One, <br />Not in a palace, but a farm, <br />And kindly oxen breathe upon <br />His manger-bed to keep it warm. <br />White wreaths of snow the roofs attire, <br />And o'er them stars the blue adorn, <br />And hark! In white the angel-quire <br />Sings to the Shepherds, 'Christ is born.'<br /><br />Toru Dutt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/christmas-131/
