Jesus is born! Let us do what we can,
tenderly weave him a garment of song
in the pattern of Mary,
consenting to carry
and wrap him in clothing of Man.
The steep vault of sky stoops down in a dome
stars painting icons of him in its bow
While the voice of the deep
things that fly and that creep;
While angels who keep
an old man from his sleep;
While the babe in his leap
and shepherds and sheep,
and she who must weep
hail him heartily home.