Christmas Eve at St John’s

 

Above us is a star-gemmed canopy

That leans upon Slieu Whallian’s shoulder here.

There, farther off, Barrule waits stealthily

For the pale gleam of moonlight to appear

Haloed around his noble head.  Quite near

The mound of Tynwald with its terraced flank

And the grey cross to fallen heroes rear.

We for this quiet night a Love must thank,

Faces uplifted to the breathless sky,

Thinking of shepherds and of Kings from far,

Stables and oxen, and an infant’s cry,

A simple maiden and a brilliant star,

A Love that knows not greed nor bitterness,

But gives, and gives again, to heal and bless!

 

Daily Times 5.1.60