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Christmas, sort of - mystery of ages

16 December 2011 by Neil

Glory shone 'round
The men made no sound
Quaking with terror
At the birth of the Saviour
And at a bright blazing seraph
And host that sang of the Fairest

They rushed down and found sweet tired Mary
Then they went from there
And told all they met about the baby


Mystery of ages
God takes my wages
Thank you Lord for what you've done


Blood gushed all 'round
The Lamb made no sound
He drank down my cup
That I'd filled to the top
With dark deeds and omissions
Selfish words and decisions

That poison broth scathed and bruised him
Yet he gulped as one
Who's fighting for his friend and kin


Mystery of ages
God takes my wages
Thank you Lord for what you've done


Glory shone 'round
The men made no sound
Frozen with terror at the rise of the Saviour
And at a bright blazing seraph
Who rolled the stone from the Fairest

He burst forth and found another tired Mary
She clung to him
Salvation's early harvest bearing


Mystery of ages
God takes my wages
Thank you Lord for what you've done


The gavel comes down
The judged make no sound
They drink from their cups
That they'd filled to the top
But they can't swallow much
And they rejected their Nonesuch

For biting and gnashing and fear
But the righteous 
Will rest with Jesus, he holds them near


Mystery of ages
God takes my wages
Thank you Lord for what you've done

Thank you Father
Thank you Spirit
Thank you Jesus
For giving, illumining, dying and rising
The substitute blood washes all

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