Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Prize of Old

The echoing canyons of time,
Neither being still nor moved,
Recall to mind a past as sure,
The Lord God yet has proved.

The light opens on vast expanse,
The story yet to be told,
Of love so great and powerful,
Repaid with incense and gold.

The land of Bethlehem did wait,
In shallow night they sleep,
When host of angles broke the sky,
O'er frightened man and sheep.

Three wise men road from far away,
And brought their gifts so rare,
But rarer still and wondrous is,
The cross Lord Jesus bared.

The prize of old, salvation's tale.
Was told by our saving king.
The gates of heavens splendor and,
The songs that saved ones sing.

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