Imagine this

I know it isn't anywhere near Epiphany yet, but I've been listening to my old college choir recordings of Christmas carols and concerts, and remembered this, one of my favorites. Its soaring harmonies and reverent, whispering ending illustrate the lyrics beautifully:

Three Kings stood at the gate,
Each with a crown on head.
The serving man bowed down,
The inn was full, he knew.
Said he, "In all this town is
no fit place for you."

A light the stable lit,
There lay the mother meek.
Said they, "This place is fit,
Here is the rest we seek."

Come in, Come in ye Kings,
And kiss the feet of God.

Can you imagine? Little Baby feet? Of God?

Kind-of takes my breath away to think about it.