misc

Poem: Upon Christ His Birth


Strange news! a city full? will none give way
To lodge a guest that comes not every day?
No inn, nor tavern void? yet I descry
One empty place alone, where we may lie:
In too much fullness is some want: but where?
Men's empty hearts: let's ask for lodging there.
But if they not admit us, then we'll say
Their hearts, as well as inns, are made of clay.

- Sir John Suckling
Indexing:

Posts from This Journal by “hymnary” Tag

  • Third Sunday after Easter

    (Prayer requests?) When peace like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say It…

  • Second Sunday after Easter

    (Prayer requests?) This isn't the best choral recording, but it's definitely the most musically-interesting version I could find. Also, what…

  • First Sunday after Easter

    (Prayer requests?) Alleluia! O sons and daughters, let us sing! The King of heaven, the glorious King, Over death and Hell rose triumphing.…