From My Mother’s Poetry Notebook: Gloria in Excelsis
The glory-song of the ages lifts and rings
Where an organ rolls its thunder to the sky,
And a great cathedral choir stands and sings:
“Gloria in Excelsis.” Like a cry
Of victory it sounds across the earth
To herald out the little Christ Child’s birth.
The carolers down many a darkened street
Raise glad triumphant voices to the stars.
Climbing the windless air the song is sweet
And heaven itself has lowered its jeweled bars
That words once showered on a field’s white sod
May take their straight way to the throne of God.
“Gloria in Excelsis,” far and clear
From upflung throats of bells there comes the shout,
And through the night for listening hearts to hear,
The silver singing of great chimes ring out.
O sing it, shout it, and may nothing dim
The Christmas music mankind lifts for Him.
Where an organ rolls its thunder to the sky,
And a great cathedral choir stands and sings:
“Gloria in Excelsis.” Like a cry
Of victory it sounds across the earth
To herald out the little Christ Child’s birth.
The carolers down many a darkened street
Raise glad triumphant voices to the stars.
Climbing the windless air the song is sweet
And heaven itself has lowered its jeweled bars
That words once showered on a field’s white sod
May take their straight way to the throne of God.
“Gloria in Excelsis,” far and clear
From upflung throats of bells there comes the shout,
And through the night for listening hearts to hear,
The silver singing of great chimes ring out.
O sing it, shout it, and may nothing dim
The Christmas music mankind lifts for Him.
~ Grace Noll Crowell
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