'Twas a night near midwinter in our humble dwelling, My poor pregnant wife nursed a great swollen belly, Her time was now nigh, but the king had declared, 'Twas time for a census so we must travel elsewhere.
Back to our birth town, there to be counted, So I on my feet and she on our donkey mounted, We travelled to Bethlehem some miles distant, We'd asked for exclusion but the king was insistent.
And every mile, my wife grew more worried, "Joseph, it's coming - my baby, please hurry!" We sought out the taverns, but none took us in, Always the same answer 'No room at the inn,'
The town's numbers were swollen and every room taken, Only a stable, it seemed, was still vacant. So I settled her down on a soft bed of hay, And moaning, near labour, my pretty wife lay,
At least it was dry and secure from all danger, With my ass in a stall and an ox at the manger. The still midnight was rent by poor Mary's groans, As her poor belly heaved and she gave out soft moans,
Unperturbed was the ass as it dozed on the straw, While my poor wife gave birth on the stable's dirt floor. We lay him in a manger, so sweet, not a cry, As the three of us settled back down for the night,
Then at the door, I heard someone pound, And rose up so swiftly, disturbed by the sound. Three shepherds stood out there, barefoot and dishevelled, From their fields and their flocks the three men had travelled,
They'd followed a bright star, the eldest one said, Here to our stable the starlight had led. I invited them into the small humble barn; One held a lamb, held it snug in his arms,
A gift for the infant, he said with a shy look, As he set down the lamb and he propped up his crook. A gift for our son? This I scarcely took in, Why would a shepherd bring a lamb unto him?
But before I could ask them, they kneeled in the hay, Right by the manger and they started to pray. Then again from outside, their came somewhat of a clatter, And once more I went out to see what was the matter,
And there stood three men, on camels they rode, All stopped outside our current abode. One spoke to me softly, "Is an infant within?" I nodded and bowed, sure he must be a king.
With nods to his fellows, and looking quite pleased, They settled the camels on elbows and knees. Three kings, I was certain, and all of them wise, And I hadn't recovered from my earlier surprise!
"I offer him gold, as befits a great lord," And a box was laid by the manger without further word. "I have frankincense, its scent heavy and sweet," The second laid his gift at our infant son's feet.
"And I bring him myrrh, the sad scent of a tomb," A strange gift for a child just hour from the womb. Then by the shepherds these kingly men knelt, I could not describe the emotions I felt.
Not wishing disturbance on the passing strange scene, I walked into the night, still so quiet, so serene. I looked up to the heavens and there in the night, Shone a single great star, right above me, so bright.
In my head I heard words, and they soothed my poor soul, "Jesus Christ is born here, in this stable so lowly," And that single star shone, steadfast with its light, "This is the first Christmas, the most holy of nights."
