10 January 2025
“Who knocks tonight so late?” the weary porter said. Three kings stood
at the gate, each with a crown on head. The serving man bowed down, the Inn was
full, he knew. Said he, “In all this town is no fit place for you.” A light the
manger lit; there lay the Mother meek. Said they, “This place is fit. Here is
the rest we seek.” Come, come. They loosed their latchet strings, so stood they
all unshod. “Come in, come in, ye kings, and kiss the feet of God.”
Laurence Housman
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