From: cujo@petitmorte.net   
      
   nancygene.andjayme@gmail-dot-com.no-spam.invalid (NancyGene) wrote in   
   news:Su-dnXygI4y-ss30nZ2dnZfqn_adnZ2d@giganews.com:   
      
   >> NancyGene wrote:   
   >> The Three Kings   
   >> By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1874)   
   >>   
   >> Three Kings came riding from far away,   
   >> Melchior and Gaspar and Baltasar;   
   >> Three Wise Men out of the East were they,   
   >> And they travelled by night and they slept by day,   
   >> For their guide was a beautiful, wonderful star.   
   >>   
   >> The star was so beautiful, large and clear,   
   >> That all the other stars of the sky   
   >> Became a white mist in the atmosphere,   
   >> And by this they knew that the coming was near   
   >> Of the Prince foretold in the prophecy.   
   >>   
   >> Three caskets they bore on their saddle-bows,   
   >> Three caskets of gold with golden keys;   
   >> Their robes were of crimson silk with rows   
   >> Of bells and pomegranates and furbelows,   
   >> Their turbans like blossoming almond-trees.   
   >>   
   >> And so the Three Kings rode into the West,   
   >> Through the dusk of the night, over hill and dell,   
   >> And sometimes they nodded with beard on breast,   
   >> And sometimes talked, as they paused to rest,   
   >> With the people they met at some wayside well.   
   >>   
   >> “Of the child that is born,” said Baltasar,   
   >> “Good people, I pray you, tell us the news;   
   >> For we in the East have seen his star,   
   >> And have ridden fast, and have ridden far,   
   >> To find and worship the King of the J*ws.”   
   >>   
   >> And the people answered, “You ask in vain;   
   >> We know of no King but Herod the Great!”   
   >> They thought the Wise Men were men insane,   
   >> As they spurred their horses across the plain,   
   >> Like riders in haste, who cannot wait.   
   >>   
   >> And when they came to Jerusalem,   
   >> Herod the Great, who had heard this thing,   
   >> Sent for the Wise Men and questioned them;   
   >> And said, “Go down unto Bethlehem,   
   >> And bring me tidings of this new king.”   
   >>   
   >> So they rode away; and the star stood still,   
   >> The only one in the grey of morn;   
   >> Yes, it stopped"it stood still of its own free will,   
   >> Right over Bethlehem on the hill,   
   >> The city of David, where Christ was born.   
   >>   
   >> And the Three Kings rode through the gate and the guard,   
   >> Through the silent street, till their horses turned   
   >> And neighed as they entered the great inn-yard;   
   >> But the windows were closed, and the doors were barred,   
   >> And only a light in the stable burned.   
   >>   
   >> And cradled there in the scented hay,   
   >> In the air made sweet by the breath of kine,   
   >> The little child in the manger lay,   
   >> The child, that would be king one day   
   >> Of a kingdom not human, but divine.   
   >>   
   >> His mother Mary of Nazareth   
   >> Sat watching beside his place of rest,   
   >> Watching the even flow of his breath,   
   >> For the joy of life and the terror of death   
   >> Were mingled together in her breast.   
   >>   
   >> They laid their offerings at his feet:   
   >> The gold was their tribute to a King,   
   >> The frankincense, with its odor sweet,   
   >> Was for the Priest, the Paraclete,   
   >> The myrrh for the body’s burying.   
   >>   
   >> And the mother wondered and bowed her head,   
   >> And sat as still as a statue of stone,   
   >> Her heart was troubled yet comforted,   
   >> Remembering what the Angel had said   
   >> Of an endless reign and of David’s throne.   
   >>   
   >> Then the Kings rode out of the city gate,   
   >> With a clatter of hoofs in proud array;   
   >> But they went not back to Herod the Great,   
   >> For they knew his malice and feared his hate,   
   >> And returned to their homes by another way.   
   >>   
   >> ------   
   >>   
   >> Henry asked us to post this to AAPC for him.  He says he may join the   
   >> group soon.   
   >   
   >   
   >   
   > -----   
   > Henry told us he has some new poems for us to post for him.   
      
   As long as there's no mention of Team Douchebag, I'm good with it.   
      
      
   --   
   "Post-editing someone's statement before replying to it is a sure sign   
   that you have already lost the argument." - Little Willie Douchebag gets   
   another asskicking from Pendragon   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)