BLACK CAT POEMS
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Hail! happy season of the year,
With sweetest pleasures fraught,
With social joys and earthly cheer,
And calm and holy thought.
But whether in the sacred fane
Or round the festive board,
Let everyone take up the strain
Of glory to the Lord.
Oh! what a glorious, grand event
Took place that joyful morn,
When God his swift-winged angels sent
To tell that Christ was born.
The veiling clouds are rolled aside
And glory streams around,
While wondering shepherds terrified
Fall prostrate on the ground.
"Fear not, the branch of Jesse's stem"
The soothing angels said--
"Is born this day in Bethlehem
And in a manger laid.
"We come glad tidings to proclaim--
The promised Christ is given,
And all who call upon his name
Shall find their way to heaven."
The quickly down the shining steep
Descends the angel throng,
To sing the holy child to sleep
With heaven's choicest song.
'Tis heaven's music come to earth--
For men hear angels sing
Their anthem at the Saviour's birth--
The praise of Zion King.
"All glory be to God on high,
On earth be love and peace,
Good will to men," the angels cry--
"So let their jarrings cease."
Oh, what a grand, majestic sight!
'Tis angels come to tell
That God, who sat enthroned in light,
Has come with men to dwell.
God gives his Son the greatest gift
That heaven could bestow,
'Tis mercy's lowest stoop to lift
Our souls from endless woe.
Then let us keep our festive day
With holy, joyous mirth,
And to our friends good will display,
And peace to all on earth.
poems by S. Moore