Behold the Lightener of the stars, |
On the crests of the clouds,
And the silver singers of the sky
Coming down with acclaim
From the palaces above,
Harp and lyre of song
Sounding to him.
O Idris, bearer of my hope,
Why should I not raise thy fame!
Faeries and elves melodious
Singing to thee.
Thou son of the Goddess of Night
Of exceeding white purity of beauty,
Joy were it to me to play in the fields
Of thy tiny lanterns.
O Idris, my hope,
O Idris of the celestial houses,
At the dawn of eventide,
I will praise thee.
Author Bio :
Document Copyright © 1993, 1998 by Mike Nichols
This document (or selections from it) may be re-published only as long as no information is changed, credit is given to the author, and it is provided or used without cost to others.
NOTE: Liturgical use is encouraged, and the stipulation of crediting the author is waived when the material is spoken in liturgical settings. However, author credit should still appear on any hard copy.
Any other use requires permission from Mike at Witches Sabats
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