WHAT sudden blaze of song | |
| Spreads o’er th’ expanse of heav’n? | |
| In waves of light it thrills along, | |
| Th’ angelic signal given— | |
| “Glory to God!” from yonder central fire | 5 |
| Flows out the echoing lay beyond the starry quire; | |
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| Like circles widening round | |
| Upon a clear blue river, | |
| Orb after orb, the wondrous sound | |
| Is echoed on for ever: | 10 |
| “Glory to God on high, on earth be peace, | |
| And love towards men of love 1—salvation and release.” | |
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| Yet stay, before thou dare | |
| To join that festal throng; | |
| Listen and mark what gentle air | 15 |
| First stirr’d the tide of song; | |
| ’Tis not, “the Saviour born in David’s home, | |
| To whom for power and health obedient worlds should come:”— | |
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| ’Tis not, “the Christ the Lord:”— | |
| With fix’d adoring look | 20 |
| The choir of Angels caught the word, | |
| Nor yet their silence broke: | |
| But when they heard the sign, where Christ should be, | |
| In sudden light they shone and heavenly harmony. | |
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| Wrapp’d in His swaddling bands, | 25 |
| And in His manger laid, | |
| The hope and glory of all lands | |
| Is come to the world’s aid: | |
| No peaceful home upon His cradle smil’d, | |
| Guests rudely went and came, where slept the royal Child. | 30 |
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| But where Thou dwellest, Lord, | |
| No other thought should be. | |
| Once duly welcom’d and ador’d, | |
| How should I part with Thee? | |
| Bethlehem must lose Thee soon, but Thou wilt grace | 35 |
| The single heart to be Thy sure abiding-place. | |
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| Thee, on the bosom laid | |
| Of a pure virgin mind, | |
| In quiet ever, and in shade, | |
| Shepherd and sage may find; | 40 |
| They, who have bow’d untaught to Nature’s sway, | |
| And they, who follow Truth along her star-paved way. | |
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| The pastoral spirits first | |
| Approach Thee, Babe divine, | |
| For they in lowly thoughts are nurs’d, | 45 |
| Meet for Thy lowly shrine: | |
| Sooner than they should miss where Thou dost dwell, | |
| Angels from Heaven will stoop to guide them to Thy cell. | |
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| Still, as the day comes round | |
| For Thee to be revealed, | 50 |
| By wakeful shepherds Thou art found, | |
| Abiding in the field. | |
| All through the wintry heaven and chill night air, | |
| In music and in light Thou dawnest on their prayer. | |
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| Oh faint not ye for fear— | 55 |
| What though your wandering sheep, | |
| Reckless of what they see and hear, | |
| Lie lost in wilful sleep? | |
| High Heaven in mercy to your sad annoy | |
| Still greets you with glad tidings of immortal joy. | 60 |
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| Think on th’ eternal home | |
| The Saviour left for you; | |
| Think on the Lord most holy, come | |
| To dwell with hearts untrue: | |
| So shall ye tread untir’d His pastoral ways, | 65 |
| And in the darkness sing your carol of high praise. | |
