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
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