Northern Apostle

In Advent past I looked with glee
upon the vast and tinseled tree
That bade our home a jolly place,
 And made me happy on my face

Now no carols fill the town
Distant, harrowed, wearing frowns,
Are the folks we once knew
Always with too much to do

Are we to stand as snow blows by,
Lonesome under starless sky,
As hearth sits dusty and unlit by,
the passing of that once great Mass,
which never passed sans spirits high?