Our Creche

A Poem for Christmastide

Tiny Tim's Song

-and bye and bye they had a song, about a lost child travelling in the snow, from Tiny Tim; who had a plaintive little voice, and sang it very well indeed.

The winter wind blows cold, blows cold,
But the Christmas fire blows warm,
And Our Saviour came as a little child
To keep us all from harm.

1. The little child went through the snow,
While the winter wind came cold;
His way was lost in the snowy night,
Like a sheep outside the fold.

2. No light he saw in the forest dark,
No lamp nor taper lit;
The path he trod was covered deep
With snow in icy drifts.

The winter wind blows cold, blows cold,
But the holly's fruit shows red;
And Our Saviour came in the winter-tide
To keep us all from dread.

3. He came upon an humble cot
Where dwelt a man so old;
The wind it whistled through the chinks,
The hearth was dark and cold.

4. He came upon a rich estate
Behind a stony wall;
The gate was barred and though he cried
None answered to his call.

The winter wind blows cold, blows cold,
But the mistletoe hangs high;
And Our Saviour cried his seven words
When he went for us to die.

5. The child sank down in the drifted snow,
Sank down on his bended knee;
But ere he closed his eyes to sleep
A chapel did he see.

6. There lamps he saw in the chapel old,
Bright lamps and tapers lit,
To guide the weary souls at night
By the storm so sore beset.

7. And from that chapel there came the sound
Of the merry organ's voice;
And from that chapel the child could hear
All manner of joyful noise.

The winter wind blows cold, blows cold,
But the bellows blows a song;
And Our Saviour came to gather us back
To His loving arms and strong.

8. And in that chapel a goodly folk
Were singing praises loud;
And they took the wandering child into
The heart of that merry crowd.

9. They welcomed the child to the Christmas feast,
And fed him at their board;
They clothed him in a goodly robe
For the sake of Our dear Lord.

10. And ever after that he dwelt
Amongst that goodly folk;
Who passed each day regarding well
The words Our dear Lord spoke.

The winter wind blows cold, blows cold,
But now my song is done;
and Christmas-tide is here at last,
God bless us, every one!

Copyright (c) 2005 Charles M. Gatlin, Jr.

William and I were reading The Christmas Carol a few years ago, and wondered whether anyone had identified a particular song with the one Tiny Tim is said to have sung. Neither of us could find one, so I wrote this one to fill the purpose.

Merry Christmas, and God bless us, every one!