Puslapio vaizdai

The They laid their offerings at his feet:

Glad Evangel

The gold was their tribute to a King;
The frankincense, with its odor sweet,
Was for the Priest, the Paraclete;

The myrrh for the body's burying.

And the mother wondered and bowed her head,
And sat as still as a statue of stone;
Her heart was troubled yet comforted,
Remembering what the angel had said

Of an endless reign and of David's throne.

Then the Kings rode out of the city gate,

With a clatter of hoofs in proud array;
But they went not back to Herod the Great,
For they knew his malice and feared his hate,
And returned to their homes by another way.

The Three Kings

From out Cologne there came three kings
To worship Jesus Christ, their King;
To him they sought fine herbs they brought
And many a beauteous golden thing;
They brought their gifts to Bethlehem town
And in that manger set them down.

* From "With Trumpet and Drum," by Eugene Field Copyright, 1892, by Charles Scribner's Sons.

Then spake the first king, and he said:
"O Child most heavenly, bright and fair,
I bring this crown to Bethlehem town

For Thee, and only Thee, to wear;
So give a heavenly crown to me
When I shall come at last to Thee."

The second then: "I bring thee here
This royal robe, O Child!" he cried;
"Of silk 'tis spun and such an one
There is not in the world beside!
So in the day of doom requite
Me with a heavenly robe of white!"


The third king gave his gift, and quoth:
Spikenard and myrrh to Thee I bring,
And with these twain would I most fain
Anoint the body of my King.

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Thus spake the three kings of Cologne

That gave their gifts and went their way;
And now kneel I in prayer hard-by
The cradle of the Child to-day;
Nor crown, nor robe, nor spice I bring
As offering unto Christ my King.

Yet have I brought a gift the Child
May not despise, however small;

The Glad Evangel

The Glad Evangel

For here I lay my heart to-day,
And it is full of love to all!
Take Thou the poor, but loyal thing,
My only tribute, Christ, my King.


A Christmas Hymn

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 land and sea.
No sound was heard of clashing wars-
Peace brooded o'er the hushed domain:
Apollo, Pallas, Jove and Mars

Held undisturbed their ancient reign,
In the solemn midnight,
Centuries ago.

"Twas in the calm and silent night!
The senator of haughty Rome,
Impatient, arged his chariot's flight,
From lordly revel rolling home;
Triumphal arches, gleaming, swell

His breast with thoughts of boundless sway;

What recked the Roman what befell

A paltry province far away,

In the solemn midnight,

Centuries ago?

Within that province far away
Went plodding home a weary boor;
A streak of light before him lay,

Falling through a half-shut stable-door
Across his path. He passed-for naught
Told what was going on within;
How keen 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-but 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 solemn night!

A thousand bells ring out, and throw Their joyous peals abroad, and smite

The darkness charmed and holy now! The night that erst no name had worn, To it a happy name is given;

The Glad Evangel

The Glad Evangel

For in that stable lay, new-born,

The peaceful prince of earth and heaven,
In the solemn midnight,

Centuries ago!

ALFRED Dommett.

O Little Town of Bethlehem

O little town of Bethlehem,

How still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth

The everlasting Light;

The hopes and fears of all the years

Are met in thee to-night.

For Christ is born of Mary,

And, gathered all above,
While mortals sleep, the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love.
O morning stars, together

Proclaim the holy birth!

And praises sing to God the King,
And peace to men on earth.

How silently, how silently,

The wondrous gift is given!

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