Page:Dreams and Images.djvu/275

Lord of the heaven's fairest height,
Homeless in the traveler's night,
Begging my hearth, my board, my cup,
That I, not He, may richly sup.

O soul of mine, the board begin,
And let this wondrous Beggar in!

The silent Christmas stars shine cool and clear
Above a world of mingled joy and woe;
On peaceful cottage homes, with thanks aglow
For royal bounty of the grape-crowned year;
And on red fields of blood, where many a tear
Is wiped away by Death, a gentle foe,
More merciful than they who bade it flow.
Shine, silver stars, rain down your blessed cheer!

Comfort the mourner with your Angel song!
The Christ-Child reigns. Behold His tiny hand
Upraised in benediction warm and sweet!
O'er every joy and every bitter wrong
The Babe of Bethlehem hath supreme command;
Come, worship, kings and peoples, at His feet!