NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH

Deep in the shelter of the cave,
  The ass with drooping head
Stood weary in the shadow, where
  His master’s hand had led. 
About the manger oxen lay,
  Bending a wide-eyed gaze
Upon the little new-born Babe,
  Half worship, half amaze. 
High in the roof the doves were set,
  And cooed there, soft and mild,
Yet not so sweet as, in the hay,
  The Mother to her Child. 
The gentle cows breathed fragrant breath
  To keep Babe Jesus warm,
While loud and clear, o’er hill and dale,
  The cocks crowed, “Christ is born!”
Out in the fields, beneath the stars,
  The young lambs sleeping lay,
And dreamed that in the manger slept
  Another, white as they.

These were Thy neighbors, Christmas Child;
  To Thee their love was given,
For in Thy baby face there shone
  The wonder-light of Heaven.

CHRISTMAS CAROL

FROM THE NEAPOLITAN

When Christ was born in Bethlehem,
’T was night, but seemed the noon of day;
  The stars, whose light
  Was pure and bright,
Shone with unwavering ray;
But one, one glorious star
Guided the Eastern Magi from afar.

Then peace was spread throughout the land;
The lion fed beside the tender lamb;
  And with the kid,
  To pasture led,
  The spotted leopard fed;
In peace, the calf and bear,
The wolf and lamb reposed together there.

As shepherds watched their flocks by night,
An angel, brighter than the sun’s own light,
    Appeared in air,
    And gently said,
    Fear not,—­be not afraid,
For lo! beneath your eyes,
Earth has become a smiling paradise.

A CHRISTMAS HYMN

RICHARD WATSON GILDER

Tell me what is this innumerable throng
Singing in the heavens a loud angelic song? 
These are they who come with swift and shining feet
From round about the throne of God the Lord of Light to greet.

Oh, who are these that hasten beneath the starry sky,
As if with joyful tidings that through the world shall fly? 
The faithful shepherds these, who greatly were afeared
When, as they watched their flocks by night, the heavenly host appeared.

Who are these that follow across the hills of night
A star that westward hurries along the fields of light?

Three wise men from the east who myrrh and treasure bring
To lay them at the feet of him their Lord and Christ and King.

What babe new-born is this that in a manger cries? 
Near on her lowly bed his happy mother lies. 
Oh, see the air is shaken with white and heavenly wings—­
This is the Lord of all the earth, this is the King of kings.

THE SONG OF A SHEPHERD—­BOY AT BETHLEHEM