O Little Town
Barbed wire enclaves, barricade
Fears of exploding hand grenade
O Little Town of Bethlehem, how
Has this come about, who did allow
These holy streets to be so bound?
Herod would laugh, his mirth abound
At the plight of those trapped within
What is their crime? No special sin.
Only to be caught within the fear
Of how the stranger can so appear
To others as a menace; reflected hate
Pray to the world that it should abate
These days, there is room at the inn
For none can enter, no pilgrim begin
An act of love, of reaching hand to hand
Instead soldiers patrol, the military band
At night, the gates are locked, but in pain
Are lives of those within, who still remain
Their homes, a prison camp in all but name
Can none in power end this? Is there no shame
Among the mighty, those who believe in right
But cannot humble themselves to other's plight
Beneath these darkened streets, let hope arise
Tell out of this to the world, do not despise
One small town, for acts of love start small
It is only pride that rises huge before a fall
And let reflected glory come once more here
Driving out the darkness, love fighting fear
On Christmas eve, when stars shine bright
Let goodness come again, reveal the light.
dê- un- - Following on from the discovery of an attestation for *dêbouder *(to stop sulking), we've drawn up this quick list of other verbs prefixed by *dê-* s'dêbah...
3 hours ago