Music on Christmas Morning
By Anne Bronte
usic I love -- but never strain
Could kindle raptures so divine,
So grief assuage, so conquer pain,
And rouse this pensive heart of mine --
As that we hear on Christmas morn,
Upon the wintry breezes borne.
Though Darkness still her empire keep,
And hours must pass, ere morning break;
From troubled dreams, or slumbers deep,
That music kindly bids us wake:
It calls us, with an angels voice,
To wake, and worship, and rejoice;
To greet with joy the glorious morn,
Which angels welcomed long ago,
When our redeeming LORD was born,
To bring the Light of Heaven below;
The Powers of Darkness to dispel,
And rescue Earth from Death and Hell.
While listening to that sacred strain,
My raptured spirit soars on high;
I seem to hear those songs again
Resounding through the open sky,
That kindled such divine delight,
In those who watched their flocks by night.
With them, I celebrate His birth --
Glory to God, in highest Heaven,
Good-will to men, and peace on Earth,
To us a Saviour-King is given;
Our God is come to claim His own,
And Satan's power is overthrown!
A sinless God, for sinful men,
Descends to suffer and to bleed;
Hell must renounce its empire then;
The price is paid, the world is freed,
And Satan's self must now confess,
That Christ has earned a Right to bless:
Now holy Peace may smile from Heaven,
And heavnly Truth from earth shall spring:
The captives galling bonds are riven,
For our Redeemer is our king;
And He that gave His blood for men
Will lead us home to God again.
~ Luke 1:68, 70, 71, 74 ~
"Blessed be the LORD God of
Israel; for He hath visited and redeemed His people ...
As He spake by the mouth of His holy prophets, which have been since the world began:
that we should be saved from our enemies, and from the hand of all that hate us ...
That He would grant unto us, that we being delivered out of the hand of our enemies
might serve Him without fear."