Christmas Morning

Christmas morning
I'm up and at the window;
a most precious gift I see!
The sun is sitting
behind clouds aflame
on Mount Baker's shoulder.

I think how infrequent it is
that I can see the sun --
the spherical body of fire --
'less it is slightly veiled.
And even then I can't look long
'less I sacrifice sight of everything else!

Ah! Christmas veil;
glory e'er forsaken.
He became something we can see,
something to behold...
and believe.

Christ, my love,
my eyes are robbed
of sight for any other.