Merry Christmas
How tussle'd thou with such dreamsThat maketh gold of sour streams
How censure thee snow white and pure
Of ages sacred, of darkness cure?
Arise, awake! And dream out loud
With waking eyes 'pon ev'ry cloud
'Tis time for joy, a time to wake
A time that's left for you to take
Look to the stars gaze out of portals
Where martyrs make merry men of mortals
Let songs arise to skies above
Let every word be a hymn of love
For glories come from glories' refute
Of He born in darkness, to man was mute
Still now His voice 'tis left unheard
Let all man know; 'tis Love the word
Poetry by CrowRider
Read 524 times
Written on 2010-12-22 at 22:22
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John Ashleigh |
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Phyllis J. Rhodes |
