Classic Poem

Nigh on twice a thousand springs
Now have passed on golden wings
Since over Bethlehem's starlit snow,
Pealed the angel anthem slow
To Man's goodwill from God on high
To Man's divine equality.

As the green spring seed is born
As grows slow the golden corn
Slow and sure, and manifold
Creepeth in the age of gold
To Man's goodwill from God on high
To Man's divine equality.

Not at once doth it appear
" Lo, 'tis there " nor " lo, 'tis here. "
Like a thief beneath the night
Like slow dawn's rose-red light.
To Man goodwill from God on high.
To Man divine equality.

Lo, dry bones a valley fill
All, is desolate and still,
" Can these live? " the Voice hath cried
" Lord, thou knowest, " the seer replied.
And the four strong winds of God
Fire them hot with life and blood,
To Man goodwill from God on high
To Man divine equality.