These kings of concrete castles sit
in lonely power, purport to rule
The earth, and all the hapless throng
Who sit, and dream along
The pedagogues of science meet,
Presume to order cosmic spheres:
To know the depth, the height, the course
Of all, save one impelling Force.
In dropping names, this avant garde,
Called beautiful, adored by all,
See only self whose object, fame
Deludes and recognises not his name
But all men rule and all they dream,
And all they know and all they seek,
All they presume and all they deal
And all they are, ignore what's real.
For all that is and all to come
Was in the humblest, quietest birth
Eclipsed, when God the Son came down
And time stood still, the Meek to crown.
If you live in the hills Wayman and I would like to invite you to come and celebrate Christmas with us at our church. We meet at the Littlehampton primary school in their gym.
Christmas day we will be there at 9am for under an hour, so there is plenty of time to prepare for the mid-day meal.
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