It Came Upon the Midnight Clear

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!


  1. Just perfect, oh wise young friend. I needed this. Thank you. Third verses are often gold mines. I’m saying it back to you. And….the Angels are singing. Barely. That’s a lot.

  2. Merry Christmas to you too, Megan!

  3. I love that verse! And yes, it is a poem. And I’ll join with Liz and sing it back to you, honey. Merry Christmas, Megan – despite everything.

  4. So many carols are hymns full of the gospel/good news of salvation. These words are powerful, Megan.

  5. Singing with you.

    This is why I think about Christmas all year long–because I so desperately need words like this to be true.