Poems (Rowe)/The Happy Morn

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THE HAPPY MORN
OH! Star of Faith in Eastern skies, Whose coming bade good men arise, And kings to bring gifts from afar To where shone bright the steadfast Star (Whose light will shine, whate'er may hap) Upon the Babe on Mary's lap!
For Priests of old had prophesied, That to a Maiden not yet Bride A Saviour of the World should come, Unheralded by reed or drum, (The light shines on, whate'er may hap) The holy Babe on Mary's lap!
The watching Shepherds saw the light, And left untended through the night Their wand'ring flocks to bow the knee And tender homage full and free (The light will shine, whate'er may hap) To kingly Babe on Mary's lap!
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His coming brought not peace but strife, Each man against his neighbour's life! The name of Jesus called on high Became a bloody Battle cry. (The light will shine, whate'er may hap) Ah! little Babe on Mary's lap!
The tender Mother doomed by Fate To see the victim of men's hate Expire upon the cruel cross, Unknowing of her future loss, (The light will shine, whate'er may hap) Smiles on the Babe whilst in her lap!
Ah! woe is me! The Sermon taught Upon the Mount, with wisdom fraught, Is lost, forgotten, whilst men search For dross, and his dear Name besmirch (The light shines on, whate'er may hap) Who lies a Babe on Mary's lap!
They know not what they do, dear Lord, Forgive their slighting of thy word, And let the ages still unborn Be mindful of that happy morn Whose light will shine, whate'er may hap, Which saw the Babe on Mary's lap!
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