A Christmas Hymn

A poem for you and yours. Merry Christmas. "Census at Bethlehem," by Pieter Bruegel [1566]

by Richard Wilbur A stable-lamp is lightedWhose glow shall wake the sky;The stars shall bend their voices,And every stone shall cry.And every stone shall cry,And straw like gold shall shine;A barn shall harbor heaven,A stall become a shrine. This child through David‘s cityShall ride in triumph by;The palm shall strew its branches,And every stone shall cry.And every stone shall cry,Though heavy, dull, and dumb,And lie within the roadwayTo pave his kingdom come. Yet he shall be forsaken,And yielded up to die;The sky shall groan and darken,And every stone shall cry.And every stone shall cryFor stony hearts of men:God‘s blood upon the spearhead,God‘s love refused again. But now, as at the ending,The low is lifted high;The stars shall bend their voices,And every stone shall cry.And every stone shall cryIn praises of the childBy whose descent among usThe worlds are reconciled.