In the Last Days, Before the New Arrival

by ST, in the 1980s

From early spring, in the season of the Lamb,
We waited for news from the distant land:
How fares the Vineyard, shall the tree give the fig?
When harvest time is here, shall ought fill the crib?
The month of Julius, then Augustus, the days were wasted,
To pregnant fields, in the ninth month, laborers were hasted;
Still, only ghost tales and phantoms of the Truth--
In those dark days all that was civil fell to uncouth.
But thanks be to God who made the way to reform,
For in December we heard truly that a Son was born.