What angels sang on that first Christmas morn,
“Good will to men,” “The Prince of Peace is born,”
Breaks once again in benediction clear,
Sure song of God, the climax of the year.
Round, round the earth the blessed measures run,
Strife sheathes the sword, a thousand think as one,
Babes leap for joy, December hearts aglow
Burn with the hopes they burned with long ago.
Strain urges strain, benevolence is sped,
Dives relents and Lazarus is fed.
Mirth makes a laugh where sorrow made a sigh,
Heart wakes to heart--the Seraphim are nigh.
“Good will and peace,” the song is on the air,
“Good will and peace,” I hear it everywhere--
“Peace on the earth,” in purposes divine,
“Good will to men”--and a good will to mine.
Oh, friend unseen, no gift is in my power;
Gold would be dross in this triumphant hour.
Take, then, the strain the angels sing to me,
“Good will and peace,” I send it all to thee.
--L. O. WILLIAMS.
(429)
* * * * *
Scattered snow along the hillside, white as springtime fleeces are,
With the whiter wings above them and the glory-streaming star--
Guiding-star across the housetops; never fear the shepherd’s felt
Till they found the Babe in manger, where the kindly cattle knelt.
Oh, the shepherds in Judea!--
Do you think the shepherds know
How the whole round earth is brightened
In the ruddy Christmas glow?
How the sighs are lost in laughter, and the laughter brings the tears,
As the thoughts of men go seeking back across the darkling years,
Till they find the wayside stable that the star-led wise men found,
With the shepherds, mute, adoring, and the glory shining round!
--MARY AUSTIN.
(430)