We have seen His star in the east, and are come to worship Him. Matthew 2:2
Two thousand troubled years
Time’s weary brow have worn,
Since that strange star to shepherds told
The Prince of Peace was born.
Two thousand years of gloom,
Of groping toward the light,
Of prophets scorned and martyrs slain,
And battle done for right.
But year by year the bells
The old glad tidings bring,
And men forget their strife, to keep
The birthday of the King.
Christ’s kingdom yet will come,
And good prevail o’er ill,
Though often with a crown of thorns
We mock the Master still.
But He will not forsake
The world for which He died,
Till all mankind be gathered home
At the great Christmastide.