Do Not Disavow

Do Not Disavow By: Rick Davis   When Charlemagne established law Salic in barb’rous land, The gospel flourished, and he saw Christ’s praise on every hand.   (“Do you approve his methods now?”) I do not disavow.   King Godfrey took Jerusalem From bloody paynim hands And brought a halt to Musselmen Invading Christian lands.   (“He did some mean things anyhow!”) I do not disavow.   King Richard with his scarlet shield And passant lions ‘bossed Rode forth again unto the field To regain what was lost.   (“His deeds at Acre you allow?”) I do not disavow.   Unto the Germans Luther brought The gospel full restored, And Calvin at Geneva taught The glory of the Lord.   (“The Jews? Servetus? Holy cow!”) I do not disavow.   Stonewall and Lee like knights of old Fought for their native soil, The true and lovely to uphold Against the tyrant’s spoil.   (“Those vile racists ...

Advent Poem 17



Christmas
by John Betjeman

The bells of waiting Advent ring,
The Tortoise stove is lit again
And lamp-oil light across the night
Has caught the streaks of winter rain
In many a stained-glass window sheen
From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green.

The holly in the windy hedge
And round the Manor House the yew
Will soon be stripped to deck the ledge,
The altar, font and arch and pew,
So that the villagers can say
'The church looks nice' on Christmas Day.

Provincial Public Houses blaze,
Corporation tramcars clang,
On lighted tenements I gaze,
Where paper decorations hang,
And bunting in the red Town Hall
Says 'Merry Christmas to you all'.

And London shops on Christmas Eve
Are strung with silver bells and flowers
As hurrying clerks the City leave
To pigeon-haunted classic towers,
And marbled clouds go scudding by
The many-steepled London sky.

And girls in slacks remember Dad,
And oafish louts remember Mum,
And sleepless children's hearts are glad.
And Christmas-morning bells say 'Come!'
Even to shining ones who dwell
Safe in the Dorchester Hotel.

And is it true,
This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained-glass window's hue,
A Baby in an ox's stall ?
The Maker of the stars and sea
Become a Child on earth for me ?

And is it true ? For if it is,
No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,
Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant,

No love that in a family dwells,
No carolling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare -
That God was man in Palestine
And lives today in Bread and Wine.

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