Advent to Candlemas (Vol. 4)


We the stars of ancient rites,
Lighting the Olympian heights,
With the Gods firmly entwined,
Have our sacred place resigned.

For a new-born star we see,
Free of all duplicity,
Shining for a God so pure,
All the others to obscure.

Not a God of war nor lust,
Whom all other gods mistrust;
Born kenotically weak
Whom the poor and lonely seek.

Mere ancient curiosities,
We reserve no dignities
But sparkle as a sacred sign
For the God who makes us shine.