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In the night,
women wait.
Bridegroom comes
to the gate.
Lamps are lit,
some too late
for the time of greeting,
so they miss the meeting.

We will watch and pray
for his coming day
and we trust,
as he comes,
he will find us waiting.


In a cold
stable stall
lay a child
for us all,
but so few
came to call
on the baby stranger
lying in that manger.

Chorus

On a cross
on the hill
Jesus died,
stranger still.
Priests were out
for the kill,
and that power would show him
that they did not know him.

Chorus

Verse Four and Chorus follows

© Marjorie Dobson
Tune: Theodoric


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