(Mary)
A paean,
Eruption of soul and spirit,
Touching the King.
(Zacharias)
Bursting from silence
I prophesy the Coming One,
The Day Spring.
(Joseph)
Stolid, a craftsman, why
Choose me as trustee of
The Holy Thing?
(Magi)
Though the weather cuts
And stones abrade,
Nettles and thorns sting
We glory in our pilgrimage
More than in ease
Or governing
Glad to be encumbered
Gold, frankincense and myrrh
By gifts we bring.
(Shepherd)
More than an angel
Redeemed, directed, lightened,
I now can sing.
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