Classic Poem

There came a king to Bethlehem town,
Two thousand years gone by,
Who had no ermine robe or crown
To mark His royalty,

Who found no throng to pave His road
With palms, or carpets gay,
Nor palace rich for His abode,
Nor courtiers to obey;

Yet empire vast awaited Him
On mountain, moor, and main;
Even Europe's tangled forests dim
Held subjects for His reign,

And soon confusion ceased to hold
Uninterrupted power,
And some of earth's oppressions old
Began to cringe and cower.

There came a King to Bethlehem town,
Two thousand years gone by,
And angels from the heavens spoke down
A royal prophecy,

That while the red sun's central flame
Should warm the peopled spheres,
Though every other kingly name
Lay dead among dead years,

This King should hold His state above
The weakness of decay,
Because the eternal power of love
Should base His throne alway.

There came a King to Bethlehem town,
Two thousand years gone by,
And still He reigns, and still speaks down
The angels' prophecy,

And some fair century yet to rise
His power complete shall grow,
And all earth's sceptered cruelties
Before His throne lie low.