December

December

Riding upon the Goat, with snow-white hair, 
I come, the last of all.
 This crown of mine 
Is of the holly; in my hand I bear 
The thyrsus, tipped with fragrant cones of pine.
 
I celebrate the birth of the Divine, 
And the return of the Saturnian reign;-- 
My songs are carols sung at every shrine, 
Proclaiming "Peace on earth, good will to men.
"