The manger be gone
No more sweet rembrances
Of angel sung songs.
The Time Grows Near
The fog of detachment
Gently clouds our view
No crosses, no mangers
For Christians like you.
The Time Grows Near
No more commandments,
To guide our way,
And "In God We Trust"
Not written, or to say.
The Time Grows Near
Complancey grows rampant,
But they do not see,
Will this be the last Christ Mass,
For you and me?
The Time Grows Near
Dear Christ Child in the manger
Place your tiny hand in mine,
Give me strength to fight,
For the Holy Devine.
For
The Time Grows Near
Poem by Helen Kramer
