The cool crisp air where cirrus sweeps
like strands of angel hair flow deep,
in the heavens where faith resides
on this Christmastide.
As the light of day grows dim
and carolers sing familiar hymns,
scarved red and green, side by side
on this Christmastide.
In the night the bright bulbs glow,
lane by lane, row on row,
while the fire warms those inside
on this...
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