Men of Old

Heaven

No poem this year (see Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh for the past three years’ mourning trilogy), just a simple verse from a great Carol.

In the heavenly country bright,
Need they no created light;
Thou its Light, its Joy, its Crown,
Thou its Sun which goes not down;
There for ever may we sing
Alleluias to our King.

One day we will join them singing praises there.

Have a great Christmas.

1 Comment on “Men of Old

  1. Hmm, surely ‘Men of Old’ is more easily conducive to poetry than the previous years’ more tricky language? e.g. –

    Men of Old
    In the cold
    With some gold
    Y’all been told

    and so on ;)

    Merry Christmas everyone! :-)

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