Classic Poem

Would the muses me inspire,
I to-day would tell to you
Story old of the Christ-child,
Dear old story, sweet and true.

How at night the lowly shepherds
Watched their flocks on Judea's hills,
While the night-wind's music mingled
With the music of the rills.

I would tell you of the tidings
Which were borne that night to them,
“Peace on earth, good will to men,
Christ is born in Bethlehem.”

I would tell you how those shepherds,
In that country far away,
Came to where within a manger
The sweet little Christ-child lay.

I would tell you how the wise men,
From the western plains afar,
Guided were into Bethlehem
By a bright and wondrous star.

I would tell you how they worshipped
Him the infant Jesus dear,
How they gave him costly presents,
Gold and frankincense and myrrh.

I would tell you all about it,
All about this story old,
Of the Christ-child in the Manger,
Though I know it's oft been told.

But the gift to paint word-pictures
Suitable for such a birth;
Suitable for One so holy;
For the Saviour of the earth,

Is denied me. I can only,
I can only tell you where
You can find this beauteous story—
In the Bible. Read it there!