It was the calm and silent night:
Seven hundred years and fifty-three
Had Rome been growing up to might,
And now was Queen of earth and sea:
The clashing of continual wars
Was hushed throughout the wide domain;
Apollo, Pallas, Jove and Mars
Held undisturbed their ancient reign,
In the solemn midnight
Centuries ago.
It was the calm and silent night:
The Senator of ancient Rome
Impatient urged his chariot’s flight,
From lordly revel rolling home:
Triumphal arches gleaming swell
His breast with thoughts of boundless sway;
Nought recked the Roman what befell
A paltry province far away,
In the solemn midnight
Centuries ago.
Within that province far away,
Went plodding home the weary boor.
A streak of light before him lay,
Fallen through a half-shut stable door
Across his path:—he passed; for nought
Told what was going on within;
How bright the stars his only thought,
The air, how calm and cold and thin
In the solemn midnight
Centuries ago.
Oh strange indifference! low and high
Drowsed over common joys and cares—
The earth was still, it knew not why,
The world was listening unawares,
How calm a moment may precede
One that shall thrill the world for ever.
To that still moment none would heed,
Man’s doom was linked, no more to sever,
In the solemn midnight
Centuries ago.
It is the calm and silent night—
A thousand bells ring out, and throw
Their joyous peals around, and smite
The darkness—charmed and holy now—
The day that erst no name had worn,
To it a blessed name is given,
For in that stable lay, new born,
The Peaceful Prince of earth and heaven—
In the solemn midnight
Centuries ago.
ALFRED DOMETT