A PAGAN HYMN ON CHRISTMAS EVE

By Joseph Upper

To mark the watches of the winter night With exploration of each yielding curve Of your nude body were indeed delight More than I hope for, more than I deserve. Let me not lose these precious hours to sleep, But ponder them like beads upon a chain; For they are gems that I must always keep, Who may not ever see their like again. The Christmas snow upon the silent ground Lies not more quiet than your lovely head Upon my shoulder, while my arms around Your body are like poor men begging bread. They say Love came to earth at Christmastide. He does so still and slumbers at my side.

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