<image no longer exists>
Could there be angels waiting in the wings,
How might we call upon their ecstasy?
Rainbows are mere garnish on the days
In which we are the glory and the light.
So may we hear the songs our sunshine sings,
The words which will the wonder of our ways;
May we know how good it is to be
As we celebrate the holidays,
So much in love we weep as angels might.
How might we call upon their ecstasy?
Rainbows are mere garnish on the days
In which we are the glory and the light.
So may we hear the songs our sunshine sings,
The words which will the wonder of our ways;
May we know how good it is to be
As we celebrate the holidays,
So much in love we weep as angels might.