On Sundays, I usually post a poem. Today’s is the third verse of the Christmas carol “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear,” words by Edmund H. Sears. After my Surviving Advent series, it seems a fitting ending.
But Megan, that’s a song.
Poem, song. Whatever.
O ye, beneath life’s crushing load
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow.
Look now, for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing,
O rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing.
Merry Christmas, y’all!
