a new paraphrase of Placide Cappeau’s “Minuit, chrétiens” (1847)
Midnight, O Midnight
Midnight, O midnight, is the holy moment
When God’s own word, woman-born, comes to you:
He shall remove all darkness and defilement,
Bring light from heaven to make all things new.
The whole world thrills with eager expectation:
The night in which all hearts are reconciled
Now has arrived. O kneel in adoration!
Behold, behold, your saviour is a child.
Now may the flame of faith ceaselessly burning
Show us the way to the cradle of birth,
Just as of old, a star as bright as morning
Led eastern sages across desert earth.
The king of kings is born where beasts are feeding:
O powers-that-seem, so boastful of your place,
Proud men and cold, turn arrogance to pleading.
The child is God, his mother full of grace.
Redemptive charity will not be hindered;
Divine love flows, and our world now is free.
All shackled souls join royalty as kindred:
Chains break asunder in sweet liberty!
What shall we give for all this wondrous goodness,
The holy birth that frees us all from death?
Rise from your sleep: deliverance is upon us!
A child is born. Praise him with every breath.
Poetry by Uncle Meridian
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Written on 2023-12-25 at 05:52
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