In Bethlehem
On Christmas Morn
The lowly gem
Of love was born
Hosannah! Christus natus est.
Bright in her crown
Of fiery star
Judea’s town
Shone from afar
Hosannah! Christus natus est.
For bird and beast
He did not come
But for the least
Of mortal scum
Hosannah! Christus natus est.
While beasts in stall
On bended knee
Did carol all
Most joyously
Hosannah! Christus natus est.
Who lies in ditch?
Who begs his bread
Who has no stitch
For back or head
Hosannah! Christus natus est.
Who wakes to weep,
Lies down to mourn?
Who in his sleep
Withdraws from scorn?
Hosannah! Christus natus est.
Ye outraged dust
On field and plain
To feed the lust
Of madmen slain
Hosannah! Christus natus est.
The manger still
Outshines the throne
Christ must and will
Come to his own
Hosannah! Christus natus est.
–Countee Cullen
This poem is piercing. Kendall, I want you to know that your postings and the T19 website are a huge blessing to me. Merry Christmas!
of mortal scum–piercing indeed!