The Lonely Crib
Fr. Leonard J. Feeney, S.J.


I pity the slender Mother-maid
For the night was dark and her heart afraid
As she knelt in the straw where the beasts had trod
And cooed and crooned to the living God.

And I pity Saint Joseph whose heart wept o'er
The ruined stall and the broken floor
And the roof unmended for Him and her,----
And to think himself was a carpenter!

O Thrones, Dominions, Spirits of Power,
Where were you in that bitter hour!
And where the Cherubim-wings withal
To cover the wind-holes in the wall!

The faded eyes of a wandering ass
Were dreamy mirrors where visions pass.
And a poor old ox in the stable dim,
His moo was the song of the Seraphim!



A Little Child At The Crib
Fr. Leonard J. Feeney, S.J.

O sweetest Baby Jesus,
How cold You were that night,
No Santa Claus came near You,
No candles gave You light.

If l were there, dear Jesus,
I'd put You in my bed
And wrap You warm, dear Jesus,
 And cover up Your head.

But Mother told me, Jesus,
You did not care to play,
For God, the Father, sent You
To take our sins away.

And You are our real Santa
Who gave us more than toys;
For gates of Heaven You opened
To everlasting joys.


Indignation
Fr. Leonard J. Feeney, S.J.

The inn that would not bed and board
The Blessed Mother of Our Lord,
That night when it had ought, when she
Was most in need of hostelry----
I think I would not pay a pin
To stop at such a stupid inn.
I think it was a dive, a den;
I hereby scourge it with my pen.

 

E-MAIL

HOME------------VIEW THE IMAGE WITHOUT PAGE CURLS-----------CHILDREN

www.catholictradition.org/Christmas/christmas-poem1.htm