Chapter 2

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

JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY

Sleep, Thou little Child of Mary: Rest Thee now. Though these hands be rough from shearing And the plough,

Yet they shall not ever fail Thee, When the waiting nations hail Thee, Bringing palms unto their King. Now--I sing.

Sleep, Thou little Child of Mary, Hope divine. If Thou wilt but smile upon me, I will twine Blossoms for Thy garlanding. Thou'rt so little to be King, God's Desire! Not a brier Shall be left to grieve Thy brow; Rest Thee now.

Sleep, Thou little Child of Mary. Some fair day Wilt Thou, as Thou wert a brother, Come away Over hills and over hollow? All the lambs will up and follow, Follow but for love of Thee. Lov'st Thou me?

Sleep, Thou little Child of Mary; Rest Thee now. I that watch am come from sheep-stead And from plough. Thou wilt have disdain of me When Thou'rt lifted, royally, Very high for all to see: Smilest Thou?

THE FIRST CHRISTMAS ROSES

ADAPTED FROM AN OLD LEGEND

The sun had dropped below the western hills of Judea, and the stillness of night had covered the earth. The heavens were illumined only by numberless stars, which shone the brighter for the darkness of the sky. No sound was heard but the occasional howl of a jackal or the bleat of a lamb in the sheepfold. Inside a tent on the hillside slept the shepherd, Berachah, and his daughter, Madelon. The little girl lay restless,--sleeping, waking, dreaming, until at last she roused herself and looked about her.

"Father," she whispered, "oh, my father, awake. I fear for the sheep."

The shepherd turned himself and reached for his staff. "What nearest thou, daughter! The dogs are asleep. Hast thou been burdened by an evil dream?"

"Nay, but father," she answered, "seest thou not the light? Hearest thou not the voice?"

Berachah gathered his mantle about him, rose, looked over the hills toward Bethlehem, and listened. The olive trees on yonder slope were casting their shadows in a marvellous light, unlike daybreak or sunset, or even the light of the moon. By the camp-fire below on the hillside the shepherds on watch were rousing themselves. Berachah waited and wondered, while Madelon clung to his side. Suddenly a sound rang out in the stillness. Madelon pressed still closer.

"It is the voice of an angel, my daughter. What it means I know not. Neither understand I this light." Berachah fell on his knees and prayed.

"Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger."

The voice of the angel died away, and the air was filled with music. Berachah raised Madelon to her feet. "Ah, daughter," said he, "It is the wonder night so long expected. To us hath it been given to see the sign. It is the Messiah who hath come, the Messiah, whose name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. He it is who shall reign on the throne of David, he it is who shall redeem Israel."

Slowly up the hillside toiled the shepherds to the tent of Berachah, their chief, who rose to greet them eagerly.

"What think you of the wonder night and of the sign?" he queried. "Are we not above all others honored, thus to learn of the Messiah's coming!"

"Yea, and Berachah," replied their spokesman, Simon, "believest thou not that we should worship the infant King! Let us now go to Bethlehem, and see this thing which has come to pass."

A murmur of protest came from the edge of the circle, and one or two turned impatiently away, whispering of duty toward flocks, and the folly of searching for a new-born baby in the city of Bethlehem. Hardheaded, practical men were these, whose hearts had not been touched by vision or by song.

The others, however, turned expectantly toward Berachah, awaiting his decision. "Truly," said Jude, "the angel of the Lord hath given us the sign in order that we might go to worship Him. How can we then do otherwise? We shall find Him, as we have heard, lying in a manger. Let us not tarry, but let us gather our choicest treasures to lay at His feet, and set out without delay across the hills toward Bethlehem."

"Oh, my father," whispered Madelon, "permit me to go with thee." Berachah did not hear her, but turned and bade the men gather together their gifts.

"I, too, father?" asked Madelon. Still Berachah said nothing. Madelon slipped back into the tent, and throwing her arms around Melampo, her shepherd dog, whispered in his ear.

Soon the shepherds returned with their gifts. Simple treasures they were,--a pair of doves, a fine wool blanket, some eggs, some honey, some late autumn fruits. Berachah had searched for the finest of his flock,--a snow-white lamb. Across the hills toward Bethlehem in the quiet, star-lit night they journeyed. As they moved silently along, the snow beneath their feet was changed to grass and flowers, and the icicles which had dropped from the trees covered their pathway like stars in the Milky Way.

Following at a distance, yet close enough to see them, came Madelon with Melampo at her heels. Over the hills they travelled on until Madelon lost sight of their own hillside. Farther and farther the shepherds went until they passed David's well, and entered the city. Berachah led the way.

"How shall we know?" whispered Simon. And the others answered, "Hush, we must await the sign."

When at last they had compassed the crescent of Bethlehem's hills, they halted by an open doorway at a signal from their leader. "The manger," they joyfully murmured, "the manger! We have found the new-born King!"

One by one the shepherds entered. One by one they fell on their knees. Away in the shadow stood the little girl, her hand on Melampo's head. In wonder she gazed while the shepherds presented their gifts, and were permitted each to hold for a moment the newborn Saviour.

Melampo, the shepherd dog, crouched on the ground, as if he too, like the ox and the ass within, would worship the Child. Madelon turned toward the darkness weeping. Then, lifting her face to heaven, she prayed that God would bless Mother and Baby. Melampo moved closer to her, dumbly offering his companionship, and, raising his head, seemed to join in her petition. Once more she looked at the worshipping circle.

"Alas," she grieved, "no gift have I for the infant Saviour. Would that I had but a flower to place in His hand."

Suddenly Melampo stirred by her side, and as she turned again from the manger she saw before her an angel, the light from whose face illumined the darkness, and whose look of tenderness rested on her tear-stained eyes.

"Why grievest thou, maiden?" asked the angel.

"That I come empty-handed to the cradle of the Saviour, that I bring no gift to greet Him," she murmured.

"The gift of thine heart, that is the best of all," answered the angel. "But that thou mayst carry something to the manger, see, I will strike with my staff upon the ground."

Wonderingly Madelon waited. From the dry earth wherever the angel's staff had touched sprang fair, white roses. Timidly she stretched out her hand toward the nearest ones. In the light of the angel's smile she gathered them, until her arms were filled with flowers. Again she turned toward the manger, and quietly slipped to the circle of kneeling shepherds.

Closer she crept to the Child, longing, yet fearing, to offer her gift.

"How shall I know," she pondered, "whether He will receive this my gift as His own?"

Berachah gazed in amazement at Madelon and the roses which she held. How came his child there, his child whom he had left safe on the hillside? And whence came such flowers! Truly this was a wonder night.

Step by step she neared the manger, knelt, and placed a rose in the Baby's hand. As the shepherds watched in silence, Mary bent over her Child, and Madelon waited for a sign. "Will He accept them?" she questioned. "How, oh, how shall I know?" As she prayed in humble silence, the Baby's eyes opened slowly, and over His face spread a smile.

THE LITTLE GRAY LAMB

ARCHIBALD BERESFORD SULLIVAN

Out on the endless purple hills, deep in the clasp of somber night, The shepherds guarded their weary ones-- guarded their flocks of cloudy white, That like a snowdrift in silence lay, Save one little lamb with its fleece of gray.

Out on the hillside all alone, gazing afar with sleepless eyes, The little gray lamb prayed soft and low, its weary face to the starry skies: "O moon of the heavens so fair, so bright, Give me--oh, give me--a fleece of white!"

No answer came from the dome of blue, nor comfort lurked in the cypress-trees; But faint came a whisper borne along on the scented wings of the passing breeze: "Little gray lamb that prays this night, I cannot give thee a fleece of white."

Then the little gray lamb of the sleepless eyes prayed to the clouds for a coat of snow, Asked of the roses, besought the woods; but each gave answer sad and low: "Little gray lamb that prays this night, We cannot give thee a fleece of white."

Like a gem unlocked from a casket dark, like an ocean pearl from its bed of blue, Came, softly stealing the clouds between, a wonderful star which brighter grew Until it flamed like the sun by day Over the place where Jesus lay.

Ere hushed were the angels' notes of praise the joyful shepherds had quickly sped Past rock and shadow, adown the hill, to kneel at the Saviour's lowly bed; While, like the spirits of phantom night, Followed their flocks--their flocks of white.

And patiently, longingly, out of the night, apart from the others,--far apart,-- Came limping and sorrowful, all alone, the little gray lamb of the weary heart, Murmuring, "I must bide far away: I am not worthy--my fleece is gray."

And the Christ Child looked upon humbled pride, at kings bent low on the earthen floor, But gazed beyond at the saddened heart of the little gray lamb at the open door; And he called it up to his manger low and laid his hand on its wrinkled face, While the kings drew golden robes aside to give to the weary one a place. And the fleece of the little gray lamb was blest: For, lo! it was whiter than all the rest!

* * * * *

In many cathedrals grand and dim, whose windows glimmer with pane and lens, Mid the odor of incense raised in prayer, hallowed about with last amens, The infant Saviour is pictured fair, with kneeling Magi wise and old, But his baby-hand rests--not on the gifts, the myrrh, the frankincense, the gold-- But on the head, with a heavenly light, Of the little gray lamb that was changed to white.

THE HOLY NIGHT

ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING

We sate among the stalls at Bethlehem; The dumb kine from their fodder turning them, Softened their horned faces To almost human gazes Toward the newly Born: The simple shepherds from the star-lit brooks Brought visionary looks, As yet in their astonied hearing rung The strange sweet angel-tongue: The magi of the East, in sandals worn, Knelt reverent, sweeping round, With long pale beards, their gifts upon the ground, The incense, myrrh, and gold These baby hands were impotent to hold: So let all earthlies and celestials wait Upon thy royal state. Sleep, sleep, my kingly One!

THE STAR BEARER

EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN

There were seven angels erst that spanned Heaven's roadway out through space, Lighting with stars, by God's command, The fringe of that high place Whence plumèd beings in their joy, The servitors His thoughts employ, Fly ceaselessly. No goodlier band Looked upward to His face.

There, on bright hovering wings that tire Never, they rested mute, Nor of far journeys had desire, Nor of the deathless fruit; For in and through each angel soul All waves of life and knowledge roll, Even as to nadir streamed the fire Of their torches resolute.

They lighted Michael's outpost through Where fly the armored brood, And the wintry Earth their omens knew Of Spring's beatitude; Rude folk, ere yet the promise came, Gave to their orbs a heathen name, Saying how steadfast in men's view The watchful Pleiads stood.

All in the solstice of the year, When the sun apace must turn, The seven bright angels 'gan to hear Heaven's twin gates outward yearn: Forth with its light and minstrelsy A lordly troop came speeding by, And joyed to see each cresset sphere So gloriously burn.

Staying his fearless passage then The Captain of that host Spake with strong voice: "We bear to men God's gift the uttermost, Whereof the oracle and sign Sibyl and sages may divine: A star shall blazon in their ken, Borne with us from your post.

"This night the Heir of Heaven's throne A new-born mortal lies! Since Earth's first morning hath not shone Such joy in seraph eyes." He spake. The least in honor there Answered with longing like a prayer,-- "My star, albeit thenceforth unknown, Shall light for you Earth's skies."

Onward the blessed legion swept, That angel at the head; (Where seven of old their station kept There are six that shine instead.) Straight hitherward came troop and star; Like some celestial bird afar Into Earth's night the cohort leapt With beauteous wings outspread.

Dazzling the East beneath it there, The Star gave out its rays: Right through the still Judean air The shepherds see it blaze,-- They see the plume-borne heavenly throng, And hear a burst of that high song Of which in Paradise aware Saints count their years but days.

For they sang such music as, I deem, In God's chief court of joys, Had stayed the flow of the crystal stream And made souls in mid-flight poise; They sang of Glory to Him most High, Of Peace on Earth abidingly, And of all delights the which, men dream, Nor sin nor grief alloys.

Breathless the kneeling shepherds heard, Charmed from their first rude fear, Nor while that music dwelt had stirred Were it a month or year: And Mary Mother drank its flow, Couched with her Babe divine,--and, lo! Ere falls the last ecstatic word Three Holy Kings draw near.

Whenas the star-led shining train Wheeled from their task complete, Skyward from over Bethlehem's plain They sped with rapture fleet; And the angel of that orient star, Thenceforth where Heaven's lordliest are, Stands with a harp, while Christ doth reign, A seraph near His feet.

THE VISIT OF THE WISE MEN

ST. MATTHEW, II, 1-12

Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem,

Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.

When Herod the king had heard these things, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.

And when he had gathered all the chief priests and scribes of the people together, he demanded of them where Christ should be born.

And they said unto him, In Bethlehem of Judaea: for thus it is written by the prophet,

And thou Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, art not the least among the princes of Judah: for out of thee shall come a Governor, that shall rule my people Israel.

Then Herod, when he had privily called the wise men, inquired of them diligently what time the star appeared.

And he sent them to Bethlehem, and said, Go and search diligently for the young child; and when ye have found him, bring me word again, that I may come and worship him also.

When they had heard the king, they departed; and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was.

When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.

And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense, and myrrh.

And being warned of God in a dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed into their own country another way.

THE THREE KINGS

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

Three Kings came riding from far away, Melchior and Gaspar and Baltasar; Three Wise Men out of the East were they, And they travelled by night and they slept by day, For their guide was a beautiful, wonderful star.

The star was so beautiful, large, and clear, That all the other stars of the sky Became a white mist in the atmosphere, 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, Three caskets of gold with golden keys; Their robes were of crimson silk with rows Of bells and pomegranates and furbelows, Their turbans like blossoming almond-trees.

And so the Three Kings rode into the West, Through the dusk of night, over hill and dell, And sometimes they nodded with beard on breast, And sometimes talked, as they paused to rest, With the people they met at some wayside well.

"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, and 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 said, "Go down unto Bethlehem, And bring me tidings of this new king."

So they rode away; and the star stood still, The only one in the gray of morn; Yes, it stopped,--it stood still of its own free will, Right over Bethlehem on the hill, 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 turned And neighed as they entered the great inn-yard; But the windows were closed, and the doors were barred, 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 little child in the manger lay, The child, that would be king one day Of a kingdom not human but divine.

His mother Mary of Nazareth Sat watching beside his place of rest, Watching the even flow of his breath, For the joy of life and the terror of death Were mingled together in her breast.

They laid their offerings at his feet: 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 HOLY KINGS

ADAPTED FROM THE GOLDEN LEGEND, AND OTHER SOURCES

In a far country, in the days before Jesus was born in Judea, there were great astrologers who studied the heavens by night and by day, for they knew of the prophecy which said that a star shall be born or spring out of Jacob, and a man shall arise of the lineage of Israel. And twelve of them were chosen to take heed, who every year ascended upon a mountain which was called the Hill of Victory. Three days they abode there, and prayed our Lord that He would show to them the star that Balaam had said and prophesied.

Now it happened on a time, that they were there on the day of the Nativity of Jesus Christ, and a star came over them upon this mountain, which had the form of a right fair child, and under his head was a shining cross, and from this cross came a voice saying: "To-day is there born a King in Judea."

Now in Arabia, the land in which the soil is red with gold, there reigned a king called Melchior. And in Saba, where frankincense flows from the trees, the king Balthasar ruled. And in the land where myrrh hangs from the bushes, the kingdom of Tharsis, reigned a third king, called Caspar. These three kings also saw the star and heard the voice, and they each made ready to go on a journey. And no one of the three knew that the others intended thus to make a pilgrimage. And they gathered together their treasures to present to the king whom they should seek, and summoned those who should attend them. So each set out with a great company and great estate. And as they journeyed they found the mountains made level as the plains, while the swollen rivers became as dry land. And never did they lose sight of the star, which shined upon them as the sun, always moving before them to guide them on their way.