Though a thousand times in Bethlehem Christ be born,
If He's not born in thee, thy soul is all forlorn.
And so I shall attend to my little errands of love early this year,
That the brief days before Christmas may be unhampered and clear.
Clear of the fever of hurry, the breathless rushing that I have known in the
past
Shall not possess me, I shall be calm in my soul and ready at last
For Christmas, to worship the Christ. I shall kneel, take time to call His Name.
I shall take time to watch the beautiful light of a candle's flame.
I shall have leisure, I shall go out alone quietly from my door.
I shall not miss the silver silence of stars that I had before.
Perhaps if I stand both very still and very long,
I shall hear what the clamour of living has kept from me - The Angels' song,
That mother's low cry, the baby's sweet song.