Laid in a humble bin
of barley, not feed corn,
tonight a Child is born
to save us all from sin.
Herod will hunt for them,
the parents taking flight
cloaked in the dead of night,
the town of Bethlehem
merely a memory.
Egypt must be their home.
But long the reach of Rome,
and soon wrung from a tree
the cry of agony:
“Hast Thou forsaken me?”
—Tim Murphy
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE
Goodbye to the Postwar Consensus
The debates of the past year or two surrounding the Second World War have exposed fault lines…
How Activism Gets Funded (ft. John Sailer)
In the latest installment of the ongoing interview series with contributing editor Mark Bauerlein, John Sailer joins…
Back Room to Boardroom
England’s best-groomed town is Darlington, Yorkshire. Data from Britain’s Office of National Statistics show that in 2024,…
