An aged saint, his strength worn out,
A man of faith, just and devout,
His heart is filled, his hope assured,
The Spirit leads toward Christ his Lord.
Up temple steps, a weary task,
Why the temple, one may ask,
A prophet’s vision long ago,
The Messiah will visit His house below.
A family meek, a mother mild,
And in her arms, her firstborn Child,
Their sacrifice, but two small doves,
A righteous offering to God above.
The aged saint and family meet,
Hope and Hope Fulfilled now greet,
The Child, a Boy, a little Lamb,
Is Christ, the King, the Great I AM.
The Child he takes into his arms,
The joy he feels-a million charms,
No other child can match this One,
This is God’s beloved Son.
“Lord, let me now depart in peace,
Now Your Salvation Your servant sees,
A Light for darkened Gentile clans,
And the Glory of Immanuel’s Land.”
The couple marvels—“What wondrous words,
What glorious things this saint declares,
The Child we hold beloved and dear,
Is the Hope of all both far and near.”
Joel I. Huffstutler 12/3/05