Breathless, with boxes hard to handle, The grocery drivers come and go. Madam the Chairman lights a candle To introduce our club's tableau. The hopeful children pray for snow. And early are our windows lighted To beckon homeward the benighted. But on the plaza near the station The carolers are caroling.
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand, With shaking timber and shifting sand, Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand Than the square stones of Rome. Whenever the day is done. But our homes are under miraculous skies Where the yule tale was begun. In a place no chart nor ship can show Under the sky's dome. Round an incredible star.