The gilded wheel spinning in the sun spiral  
And the flash of a thousand star light on hub and hilt  
And bridle gilt.  
Red robed, yellow robed, robed in gold  
Smiling in the trumpets, hands raised  
Son of the Morning, Child of the dawn.  
In the light splendored road of the cosmos' early light  
With the wild eyes flashing and the head held high  
The screaming of the voices of wild delight.  
Red robed, yellow robed, robed in gold  
He comes and his army trails behind  
In the flash of the brazen and jeweled line  
Proud on the dais with his arms held high  
A billion voices fill the sky  
For the might and the glory  
And the trumpeter's cry  
For the one who stands while the others bow  
To The One who comes to the dais now  
Draped in white enwrapped in light  
With the princes on his left and the Firstborn on his right.
 
©1972 William H. Southwell
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