Nigh on two thousand years ago
A star shone in the sky
That led the way to Bethlehem
Where a Babe was born to die.

A little Babe in swaddling clothes
Then, a saddened Nazarene
Upon whose brow the thorns somehow
Would pierce-cruel-keen.

Thru whose feet and thru whose hands
Spikes be driven hard
Yet He was Christ who understands.
Christ, the living God.

A Christ who has the wisdom Who knows each troubled heart
Who helps us bear the burden
Helps us play the part.

Who, when our days are numbered
Will know the how the why
Each wrong each right each soul's sad plight
Our worth-our place on High.

R.J. Colton • © 1929