In Bethlem Town by Haruo
(Tune: The Pesky Sarpent (I think this is the "Springfield Mountain" tune of the well-known humorous version, in the DT); Lyrics: ©Leland Bryant Ross, 1997)

Haruo's Comments:  The Feast Day of the Holy Innocents in the Western church calendar (not sure about the Eastern) is celebrated on Dec. 28, honoring the babies and toddlers of Bethlehem whom, according to Matthew's gospel, King Herod slaughtered in an attempt to kill Jesus.  The reference to beaver fur, in v. 4, is an allusion to Jesse Edgar Middleton's English version of the Huron Carol (Estennialon de tsonoue, Jesous Ahatonhia); the Huron text contains no such notion. (Click here for lyrics with midi file on Leland's website)

In Bethlem town the Christ was born.
They laid him down that starlit mor-ee-orn
Amidst the corn, in swaddling gown
Unbleached and worn, with hay his crown.
Too-loo-ree-loo, too-loo-ree-lay,
Too-loo-ree-loo: 'twas Christmas Day.

On hills nearby, poor shepherds graze
Their flocks. The sky explodes in prai-ee-aise,
With angels' lays to God on high:
"Fear not, this day salvation's nigh!
Too-loo-ree-loo, too-loo-ree-lirth,
Good will to you, and peace on earth!"

The shepherds then of one accord
To Bethlem ran to greet the Lor-ee-ord.
They found him sleeping in a trough,
Convolved in cheap, unwhitened cloth.
Too-loo-ree-laid, too-loo-ree-lotched,
They knelt and prayed as Mary watched.

From Persia far, wise Parsees came,
Led by his star, to praise his name-ee-ame.
They brought presents of gold and myrrh
And frankincense--and beaver fur,
Too-loo-ree-lurr, too-loo-ree-lee,
Then went home sur-reptitiously.

King Herod had bequestioned them,
With motive bad, about Bethlem-ee-em.
The crafty sages Herod left
In royal rage, of facts bereft--
Too-loo-ree-lilled, too-loo-ree-lents,
So Herod killed the Innocents.

God said to Joseph and his wife:
To Egypt go, to save your li-ee-ife.
Thine ancient namesake as a slave
To Egypt came your folk to save.
Too-loo-ree-lask, too-loo-ree-lun,
A sim'lar task awaits your son.

Good people all, consider ye,
Whom God hath called to liberty-I-ee--
Consider well the awful cost
The Scriptures tell in children lost;
Too-loo-ree-low, too-loo-ree-laid,
Consider now the ransoms paid.

God's peace to you; now merry be,
For 'tis all true, of verity-I-ee.
The baby born, ye know it well,
That holy morn, hath vanquished Hell,
Too-loo-ree-loss, too-loo-ree-lee,
Upon the cross, and we are free!