 | The Collected Poems of T. W. H. Crosland |  |
196
The Christmas Tree
Far off in yon blue Palestine
His star, His star, doth tremble and shine.
O little Baby fair to see,
Bless these branches for Thy tree,
His star, His star, doth tremble and shine.
O little Baby fair to see,
Bless these branches for Thy tree,
And these twinkling lights whose flame
Is spent to glorify Thy Name,
And these children, whose bright eyes
Are a perpetual sacrifice!
Is spent to glorify Thy Name,
And these children, whose bright eyes
Are a perpetual sacrifice!
| The Collected Poems of T. W. H. Crosland | |