Under the wintry skies, br Sundered from home and kin, br With patience and love in her eyes, br Mary is journeying. br The angels keep watch and ward, br And Joseph is there to guard, br But – ‘there is no room at the inn.” br br No room in the inns of Life, br No place for Christ the King, br Through the Heavens with joy are rife, br Where worshipping angels sing, br In palace, and street and mart, br In the worlds great pagan heart br There is no welcoming. br br But in far cathedrals dim, br Where Christmas lilies bloom br ‘Mid incense and holy hymn, br And tapers lighting the gloom, br Where the Christmas crib is laid, br And children come, unafraid br His own are finding Him room. br br Here the humble ones of the earth, br The poor, and the sorely tried br Are waiting the dear Lord’s birth, br And their arms are open wide, br And Mary will find them grace br Who makes for Her child a place br In their hearts, this Christmas-tide.