Poetry Explorer


Classic and Contemporary Poetry


CHRISTMAS MORN. by JOHN TROTWOOD MOORE

First Line: IN THE BEAUTY OF ITS BREAKING, IN THE MUSIC OF ITS
Last Line: AND OUR DYING BE BUT DAY.
Subject(s): CHRISTMAS; NATIVITY, THE;

IN the beauty of its breaking, in the music of its dawn,
Like an angel chorus 'waking when the Heavenly day is born,—
Comes again the day of promise,
Comes again the Christmas morn.
Beam, bright Eastern sky in glory, till our doubt clouds roll away;
Ring, sweet Christmas bells, the story,—ring forever and for aye,
Till our living be but loving
And our dying be but day.



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