It's so cold and windy tonight

I decided to look up my favorite Advent/Christmas poem - by John Betjeman:

CHRISTMAS 



The bells of waiting Advent ring, 
 
The Tortoise stove is lit again 

And lamp-oil light across the night 
 
Has caught the streaks of winter rain 

In many a stained-glass window sheen 

From Crimson Lake to Hooker’s Green. 



The holly in the windy hedge 
 
And round the Manor House the yew 

Will soon be stripped to deck the ledge, 
 
The altar, font and arch and pew, 

So that the villagers can say 

“The church looks nice” on Christmas Day. 



Provincial public houses blaze 
 
And Corporation tramcars clang, 

On lighted tenements I gaze 
 
Where paper decorations hang, 

And bunting in the red Town Hall 

Says “Merry Christmas to you all.” 



And London shops on Christmas Eve 
 
Are strung with silver bells and flowers 

As hurrying clerks the City leave 
 
To pigeon-haunted classic towers, 

And marbled clouds go scudding by 

The many-steepled London sky. 



And girls in slacks remember Dad, 
 
And oafish louts remember Mum, 

And sleepless children’s’ hearts are glad, 
 
And Christmas-morning bells say “Come!” 

Even to shining ones who dwell 

Safe in the Dorchester Hotel. 



And is it true? And is it true, 
 
This most tremendous tale of all, 

Seen in a stained-glass window’s hue, 
 
A Baby in an ox’s stall? 

The Maker of the stars and sea 

Become a Child on earth for me? 



And is it true? For if it is, 
 
No loving fingers tying strings 

Around those tissued fripperies, 
 
The sweet and silly Christmas things, 

Bath salts and inexpensive scent 

And hideous tie so kindly meant, 



No love that in a family dwells, 
 
Nor carolling in frosty air, 

Nor all the steeple-shaking bells 
 
Can with this single Truth compare-- 

That God was Man in Palestine 

And lives to-day in Bread and Wine.