Catholic Priest, Martyred in Prison
He knows not Advent’s meaning who has never sat
By twilight in a dreary cell, its windows dim;
Even by day comes little light into the narrow space.
Evening falls, slowly steals away the sun.
Night throws her gloomy mantle round the room,
Will it always be the night?
Will ne’er a ray of sunshine pierce the gloom?
And a new day lead on to joy?
A faint light glimmers through the narrow rift, a witness
That the sun sets never and soon will rise again.
Yes, that light on which men turned their backs.
The Lord will bring again, with power and glory,
And found his everlasting kingdom!
I believe in Advent!