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Or say, if this new Birth of ours
Declare to us, bright star, if we shall seek
Star. No, this ye need not do;
A princely babe, in's mother's breast.
The Glad Evangel
Hymn for Christmas
Oh! lovely voices of the sky
Which hymned the Saviour's birth,
Are ye not singing still on high,
Ye that sang,
"Peace on earth"?
To us yet speak the strains
Wherewith, in time gone by,
Ye blessed the Syrian swains,
Oh! voices of the sky!
Oh! clear and shining light, whose beams
The Glad Evangel
Be near, through life and death,
Of hope, and joy, and faith-
New Prince, New Pomp
Behold a simple, tender Babe,
The inns are full; no man will yield
This little Pilgrim bed;
But forced he is with silly beasts
Despise him not for lying there;
Weigh not his crib, his wooden dish,
This stable is a Prince's court,
The crib his chair of state;
The beasts are parcel of his pomp,
The wooden dish his plate.
The persons in that poor attire
His royal liveries wear;
The Prince himself is come from heaven:
With joy approach, O Christian wight!
And highly praise this humble pomp,
The Three Kings
Three Kings came riding from far away,
Three Wise Men out of the East were they,
For their guide was a beautiful, wonderful
The star was so beautiful, large and clear,
The And by this they knew that the coming was near Of the Prince foretold in the prophecy.
Three caskets they bore on their saddle-bows,
And so the Three Kings rode into the West,
And sometimes they nodded with beard on breast,
With the people they met at the wayside wells.
"Of the child that is born," said Baltasar,
"Good people, I pray you, tell us the news; For we in the East have seen his star, And have ridden fast, and have ridden far,
To find and worship the King of the Jews."
And the people answered, "You ask in vain;
We know of no king but Herod the Great!" They thought the Wise Men were men insane, As they spurred their horses across the plain Like riders in haste who cannot wait.
And when they came to Jerusalem,
Herod the Great, who had heard this thing,
Sent for the Wise Men and questioned them;
And bring me tidings of this new king."
So they rode away, and the star stood still,
Yes, it stopped, it stood still of its own free will,
The city of David where Christ was born.
And the Three Kings rode through the gate and the guard,
Through the silent street, till their horses
And neighed as they entered the great inn-yard;
And only a light in the stable burned.
And cradled there in the scented hay,
In the air made sweet by the breath of kine,
The Child that would be King one day
His mother, Mary of Nazareth,
Sat watching beside his place of rest,