Classic Poem

" THERE is no room for you in the inn, " said the landlord to the pair.
" The travel this month is lively, and the house filled everywhere;
The Emperor taxes the world he rules, and all Judeans must go
Up to the city of Bethlehem, whether they will or no. "

" 'Tis not for me, " the traveler said, a carpenter tough and tried,
" I crave a bed but for the maid who has ridden all day at my side. "
" The maid, forsooth, " the landlord said, " hath a matronly look to me! "
And he passed a wink to the hotel clerk, who snickered chivalrously.

The guests about the hotel clerk, they did look on askant —
The Pharisee, and the Sadducee and the Greek of the Levant,
To mark this comely, drooping girl, awhile aside they drew,
From the themes of taxes and of tolls and internal revenue.

" There is a stall within the barn no camel yet hath ta'en;
'Twill rest the young girl pleasantly, unless perchance it rain: "
It was a groom who whispered thus; a husband he had been,
And cheerfully his lodge he gave to this poor Nazarene.

Ye fathers nursing on your knee the first-born of your dears,
The priceless for their sufferings, the costlier for their fears,
Think over in these winter nights this Virgin's lonely moan,
And Joseph's loving tenderness for offspring not his own!

All night the politicians talked about the Roman yoke;
The inn blazed up with moving lights, and roared with many a joke:
They all agreed the Jewish state somehow must be made free,
But ever about the " patronage " were sure to disagree.

The dromedaries in the stalls also did ruminate;
The asses and the saddle-nags chewed o'er the themes of state;
None saw a little new-born star out of the heavens fall,
And with a holy glory kiss the stranger in the stall.

None heard the mystic choirs that sang across the glimmering moors;
None saw the reverend sages ride up to the hostel doors;
And when the earliest Christmas morn o'er crowded Bethlehem crept,
The statesmen in the manger knelt, the politicians slept.

Still taxed, still taxing, o'er the world the wise and noisy spin,
They get the tavern clerk's best cheer, the best rooms in the inn.
Thank God! whose stars of choice, scarce seen, upon the lowly fall! —
The mother fainting by the way, the baby in the stall!