MERCI MARCEL

THE
MULE

Purple, purple,
Purple, pink,
In evergreen
The candles sink.

Candle's age?
One thousand yeared,
With four, four-thousand
'Fore He appeared.

Each Sunday, four,
In front of Yule
When she arrived
Upon a mule.

A revolution,
Round the stall,
Till suddenly
On knees were all!

Like priest incensing
Hallowed altar,
To bear her Son,
All kneel, none falter.

Firm, determined,
Burdened-beast,
With veins of gold,
Great, stubborn, priest!