Classic Poem

Fling forth, O stars, on Christmas night
Your radiance from the shining height;
And borrow from the Wondrous Star
The light that led the Wise Men far.

Behold, ye Magi, in the skies
The glorious company arise,
Nor let such splendour, vainly bright,
Be wasted on the sightless night.

And watch, ye shepherds, on the plain,
Attending each your pastoral train,
Till heaven's glory, once revealed,
Invades again the midnight field.

As when the sudden angel throng
Appearing, sang the immortal song—
“To God the highest glory still,
On earth, to righteous men, goodwill!”