Beneath the Moon

A Poem for Christmas


The poem by Ed Rickard retells in verse form the Christmas story, beginning with the shepherds and ending with the Second Coming.

On blackened hills beneath the moon
Where shepherds drowsed and sheep were strewn,
A blinding glory lit the night
And woke the watchers to great fright.

Resoundingly an angel's voice
Bade all the nations to rejoice,
And said, "For you is born this day
A Savior who'll take sin away.

The babe is Jesus Christ the Lord,
Through long eternity adored.
He lies in hay in David's town,
A king to lowliness come down."

Then went the shepherds hastily
The world's best visitor to see,
Who welcomed them and wise men too,
Just as He welcomes me and you.

The evil gloom that gripped the earth
Could not prevent my Jesus' birth.
The reign of treachery and wrong
Was broken by an angel's song.

A manger was the babe's first bed,
His last, a cross till He was dead.
Though maimed and murdered for our sake,
Lo, He will come when mountains shake.

This newborn child, our morning star,
Will show His glory near and far,
So let us not in silence be,
But sing aloud of victory.


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