Auld Lang Syne

by Robert Burns

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days o' lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp!
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pu'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,
Sin auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidl'd i' the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin auld lang syne.

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak a right gude-willy waught,
For auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

Grace Carol

by Philip Graham Ryken

Joseph, see the Holy Child
Born to Mary, mother mild;
Call Him Jesus, Adam’s Son—
Now in Christ our God has come;
Call Him brother, close of kin—
Human nature, without sin.
Born to us, a fallen race,
God Incarnate, gift of grace.

Shepherds, run to Bethlehem,
Seek the babe outside the inn;
Shepherd in the manger lies,
Born to comfort all your sighs;
Unto you the Savior lives,
For the sheep His life He gives.
Born to save our wandering race,
Jesus leads us by His grace.

Eastern kings, your glory bring,
Royal treasure for the King;
King of all, the Son is given,
Destined for the throne of heaven;
Raised on high, the Christ will reign,
Conquer sin and death and pain.
Born to govern Adam’s race,
Jesus rules, the King of grace!

Jesus, Brother, Shepherd, King—
Christians, let your voices ring!
God made flesh, the Living Word,
King of Kings and Mighty Lord,
Faithful Shepherd, David’s Son,
Christ, Messiah, Holy One.
Born to save His chosen race,
Jesus gives us grace on grace.

The Journey of the Magi

by T.S. Eliot

'A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.'
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

Take to the World

by Aaron Tate

Go in peace
To love and to serve
Let your ears ring long
With what you have heard

And may the bread on your tongue
Leave a trail of crumbs
To lead the hungry back
To the place that you are from

And take to the world this love, hope, and faith
Take to the world this rare, relentless grace
And like the three-in-one
Know you must become
What you want to save
'Cause that's still the way
He takes to the world

Go and go far
Take light deep in the dark
Believe what's true
He uses all, even you

Getting in Tune

by Pete Townshend

I'm singing this note 'cause it fits in well
With the chords I'm playing
I can't pretend there's any meaning here
In the things I'm saying

But I'm in tune
Right in tune
I'm in tune
And I'm gonna tune
Right in on you

I get a little tired of having to say
'Do you come here often?'
But when I look in your eyes, I see the harmonies
And the heartaches soften

I've got it all here in my head
There's nothing more needs to be said
I'm just banging on my old piano
I'm getting in tune to the straight and narrow

I'm getting in tune
Right in tune
I'm in tune
And I'm gonna tune
Right in on you

The Second Coming

by William Butler Yeats

Turning and turning in the widening gyre,
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?