Carol

Sing, happy child, Noel, Noel,
Bright shines Orion’s sword
Where every star stands sentinel
And watchful of their Lord.

Sweetly the carol singers speak,
They fill the firelit hall,
Singing of Mary, fair and meek,
And Jesus in the stall.

Hark, happy child, to what they say,
Lock in your heart their song
Lest you should lose it on the way
When every road seems long.

You will recall the spiced scent
Of leaves where no winds stir,
When gold and frankincense are spent,
And nothing’s left but myrrh.