A Song For The Season

A Song For The Season

The kings to the stable, they brought sweet spice
The gold and the silver, and jewels of a price
But the dove by the manger, she would not cease
Mourning so softly, "He’ll bring peace. He’ll bring peace"

The kings from the Orient brought nard and clove
The dove went mourning, "He’ll bring love. He’ll bring love"
Oh what would content Him in silver and gold?
A new born baby, but one hour old

Shall myrrh please Him, or the ambergris?
What hath sweet Savior of His mother’s kiss
There’s clash of battle, and men hate and slay
From the noise and the tumult, she hides him away

But His sleep is peaceful, in His mother’s breast
The dove goes mourning, "He’ll bring rest. He’ll bring rest"

The kings to the stable, they brought sweet spice
The gold and the silver, and jewels of a price
But the dove by the manger, she would not cease
Mourning so softly, "He’ll bring peace. He’ll bring peace"

The kings from the Orient brought nard and clove
The dove went mourning, "He’ll bring love. He’ll bring love"
Oh what would content Him in silver and gold?
A new born baby, but one hour old

Shall myrrh please Him, or the ambergris?
What hath sweet Savior of His mother’s kiss
There’s clash of battle, and men hate and slay
From the noise and the tumult, she hides him away

But His sleep is peaceful, in His mother’s breast
The dove goes mourning, "He’ll bring rest. He’ll bring rest"
But His sleep is peaceful, in His mother’s breast
The dove goes mourning, "He’ll bring rest. He’ll bring rest"

© Szabo Songs ASCAP