A quaking mum who knows true fright,
A screaming babe in coldest night,
A father staring at the light;
An angel soars in fullest flight.
Some shepherds from a hillside view
The King of Kings, a baby too,
Instructed by the angels who
Declared His birth, said what to do.
He sees them now, and knows their name,
Knows where they go, and whence they came,
Knows all their sin and all their shame:
For theirs and mine He took this frame.
And now with twinkle in His eye,
With smallest cough, and faintest cry,
Below a clouded, singing sky,
Knows He was born to later die.
Ollie Smith
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-nativity-3/
