Classic Poem

The tents of shepherds and their fleecy flocks
Whitecapt the billowy summits of the hills
Of Judah underneath the starlight. Night,
That solemn sorceress whose witchery
Conjures to view the mysteries of God,
Still Night went westering over Israel,
And Dead Sea, Jordan, and Lake Galilee,
Bethesda, and the Pools of Solomon
Glowed with her starry glory in their breast,
Worshipful lovers of a passing queen.
The breezes whispered softly in the palms,
Seeming to breathe portentous revelations
In the strange language of the spirit-world.
The brooks ran sobbing through the vales, low sobs,
As if of angels stifling grief for man
In the great hope of his redemption nigh.
Bethlehem lay asleep. The starlight fell
And splintered on her housetops. She dreamed not
Of Heaven's preparation for her grandeur.
The shepherds watched their flocks. Upon the hights
There of the lonely hills, there in the night,
Where uttered patriotism was not treason
Against the Empire—where the Brazen Eagles
Had never come asserting Rome and Cæsar—
There sat the shepherds, talking of the past,
The proud old times of Hebrew history;
Of Father Abraham, who trusted God
As trusts the little child its mother's love;
Of that Nile-cradled hero, him whose arm
Wielded the almightiness of great Jehovah;
Of Miriam, sweet singer of the host
Of Israel, harping praises by the sea
Of triumph; of his voice that so prevailed
In heaven as to stop the moving sun
In middle firmament and stay the moon
In Ajalon a day; of that brave lad,
The son of Jesse, whose right arm God nerved
To smite the boastful huge Philistine dead
With but a pebble; of the heroes all,
And bards, and seers, and kings—bright names that starred
Their annals thick with glory; and, at last,
Of that great name not risen yet, but soon
To rise the sun of all their history;—
‘And he shall strike our shackles off, and chase
‘The Latin legions back, and fling from us
‘The tyranny of this Augustus Cæsar!
‘And he shall come in triumph’—
Hah! a glare
As all the stars were gathered to one blaze
And flashed down on the hills! a rush of wings!
And instant there before the shepherds stood
An angel of the Lord. A great fear smote
Their souls. They knew not but it was the dread
Last day and Israel was summoned first
To fiery judgment, as most favored, and
Most sinful. But, with quick voice, like a harp
Struck suddenly, the angel reassured
Their hearts, delivering the great Glad-Tidings;
And ‘Halleluiah! halleluiah! peace
On earth, good will to men!’ burst forth at once
With apparition of majestic angels,
That now, clad in the uniform of glory,
Revealed their splendors like a lightning-flash
Of rainbows, up, rank over rank, until
The narrowing vista of their radiant lines
Seemed closed upon the very throne of God;
And ‘Halleluiah! halleluiah!’ pealed
With all their voices, wonderfully loud—
Loud as a roar of mountain-thunderbolts,
Yet sweeter than a silvery symphony
Of quiring flutes at midnight on the sea.
Quick as a change in dreams the vault was vacant
Again of all except the stars. The shepherds
Leapt from the kneeling. Heaven beckoned them
To Bethlehem. They followed, groping through
Their tears of joy; and where the star sank low
And stopt they found the mother and the babe.