Dad Loved writing Christmas poems. This one is about the Birth of Jesus until His Death.
"Of Lowly Birth"
As Christmas Bells, chime forth their praise,
On this early Christmas morn.
They seem to tell how years ago,
The Blessed Child was born.
Born the Saviour of this world,
Yet born in stable low
His destiny controlled by God,
The God who Loved Him so.
And in the hills of Galilee,
He spent his early years.
Working, teaching, doing good,
Attracting all to hear.
The Romans and the Hebrews too,
Were frightened by his plan.
Of teaching Love to one and all,
Was he a mortal man?
They found a way, yet did not know,
That this was in God's plan.
To show the mighty Love God had,
For lowly, mortal man.
They nailed him to a cross up high,
High on Golgotha's brow.
Satisfied this was the end,
Who'd be a Christian now?
But he returned, from three days dead,
His Christians to embrace.
They spread His Gospel, far and wide,
To every man and race.
E. H. Coe