A Poem by Thayne Whipple
Bethlehem
Dec 20, 2015
O’er all the many centuries,
In all the principalities;
Would that small village, through the earth
Be known, were not it for his birth?
And more, the twelfth month of the year
Would likely not be filled with cheer.
Nor would we each have trees of pine
Adorned with lights that color shine.
Our calendar, confused would be,
No need for Christianity,
In sum, the world would markedly
Be different from the one we see.
But greater far, remember that
If Mary, Christ had not begat;
He could not for our sins have paid -
And thus my humble accolade.
In all the principalities;
Would that small village, through the earth
Be known, were not it for his birth?
And more, the twelfth month of the year
Would likely not be filled with cheer.
Nor would we each have trees of pine
Adorned with lights that color shine.
Our calendar, confused would be,
No need for Christianity,
In sum, the world would markedly
Be different from the one we see.
But greater far, remember that
If Mary, Christ had not begat;
He could not for our sins have paid -
And thus my humble accolade.
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