There's room at my table.

There's wine in your cup.

a (belated) poem of Bethlehem

There's room at my table.

Now don't muck it up.

Come eat of these vittals,

and drink of this cup.

The ox and the babe, whom

visitors flocked to

to see Him they had heard was nigh,

are humble and dirty and hungry and cold,

but... Lo! they're proud at the same time,

for theirs is the kingdom,

and yours it is too,

if only you listen,

before It is through.