Though surge of moments rolls
Across earth’s plundered plain
It can never quench the soul
Of hope’s joyful refrain
The demons of death’s doom
Tremble beneath the robe
Of Triumph’s Holy Groom
Holding Time’s tortured globe
Lift high your gladsome song
For it can never cease
Soon we shall join a scared throng
Hailing the Prince of Peace
The Babe in Bethlehem
Is Heaven’s King of kings
And Calvary’s slaughtered
Lamb
Conquered Death’s curs-ed sting
The surge of moments rolls
In hours, weeks and years
The Christ of Bethlehem consoles
And holds these time-warped spheres
Our praises we repeat
For He will soon return
With angels legions at His feet
And gathered round His throne
His songs will never cease
Highest holy esteem
Love’s everlasting Prince of Peace
Is mankind’s hope Supreme
© Janet Martin
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