Carol

A poem by W R Rodgers:Deep in the fading leaves of nightThere lay the flower that darkness knows,Till winter stripped and brought to lightThe most incomparable RoseThat blows, that blows.

The flashing mirrors of the snow

Keep turning and returning still:

To see the lovely child below

And hold him is their only will;

Keep still, keep still.

And to let go his very cry

The clinging echoes are so slow

That still his wail they multiply

Though he lies singing now below,

So low, so low.

Even the doves forget to grieve

And gravely to his greeting fly

And the lone places that they leave

All follow and are standing by

On high, on high.