"WHILE SHEPHERDS WATCHED."* Like small curled feathers, white and soft, Across the moon, and past the stars, In upland pastures, where the grass Like snowy clouds the young sheep lay, That first, best Christmas night. The shepherds slept, and glimmering faint, With twist of thin blue smoke, Only their fire's crackling flames The tender silence broke Save when a young lamb raised his head, Or, when the night wind blew. A nestling bird would softly stir, With finger on her solemn lip, Then came such flash of silver light The wondering shepherds woke and hid And all their gentle, sleepy flock Looked up, then slept again, Nor knew the light that dimmed the stars Brought endless Peace to men. Nor even heard the gracious words That down the ages ring "The Christ is born! the Lord has come Good-will on earth to bring." Then o'er the moonlit, misty fields, Dumb with the world's great joy, The shepherds sought the white-walled town, Where lay the baby boy. And oh, the gladness of the world, The glory of the skies, Because the longed-for Christ looked up In Mary's happy eyes. -Margaret Deland. ON CHRISTMAS MORN. When Mary softly sank to rest While angels bring Him stars for toys -Clare Townsend Baldwin. |