This week, I observed a life coming into the world and a life leaving it, a life subjected to judgment and a life torn asunder. And Advent has begun, when a cold pallor settles into my surroundings and a chill into my limbs and a sickness into my soul, and my appeal for deliverance from this body of death draws nearer to its zenith with each tinkle of each silver bell.
Be still, my soul; the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord,
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul; when change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.
When we shall be forever with the Lord,
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul; when change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.
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2 comments:
I heard the bells on Christmas day their old familiar carols play, and wild and sweet the words repeat of peace on earth, good-will to men.
I thought how, as the day had come, the belfries of all Christendom had rolled along the'unbroken song of peace on earth, good-will to men.
And in despair I bowed my head: "There is no peace on earth," I said, "For hate is strong, and mocks the song of peace on earth, good-will to men."
Then peeled the bells more loud and deep: "God is not dead: nor doth He sleep; the wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with peace on earth, good-will to men."
Till ringing, singing on its way, the world revolved from night to day, a voice, a chime, a chant sublime, of peace on earth good-will to men (and women)!
Thanks, Bev. I had forgotten about that song. It's been a long time since I've heard it. It's kind of perfect, isn't it?
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