Noel
Fr. Leonard J. Feeney, S.J.


When I said Mass at midnight
And candles were aglow
I saw a white old woman
Two thousand years ago,

My very great grandmother
Who spun me flesh and bone,
Who felt my fingers aching
In the atoms of her own,

In whom my eyes were shining
However far away,
When Christ was in His cradle
And it was Christmas Day.



And Still . . .
Fr. Leonard J. Feeney, S.J.


And still . . . though maybe not one tenth the town
Believes what boon this Birthday brought us down,
We go on keeping Christmas just the same
With tinsel tricks, pretenses, and a name.

And still . . . and still . . . the marvel Mother-Maiden
Is of her infant Lad and Lord unladen;
 Emmanuel, grown little for our sakes,
Into our world His baby-entrance makes.

And still . . . above the Cave the stars are bright,
Some sheep and shepherds run with all their might,
And kings and camels from the Orient come,
While Angels sing: Let there be Peace, for some!


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