Classic Poem

Brighter than the rising day,
When the sun in glory shines,
Brighter than the diamond's ray
Sparkling in Golconda's mines,
Beaming through the clouds of woe,
Smiles in Mercy's diadem
Brighter on the world below,
The Star that rose in Bethlehem.

When our eyes are dimmed with tears,
This can light them up again,
Sweet as music to our ears
Faintly warbling o'er the plain.
Never shines a ray so bright
From the purest earthly gem;
O, there is no soothing light
Like the Star of Bethlehem!

Grief's dark clouds may round us roll,
Every heart may sink in woe,
Gloomy conscience rack the soul,
And sorrow's tears in torrents flow;
Still through all these clouds and storms
Shines this purest heavenly gem,
With a ray that kindly warms,—
The Star that rose in Bethlehem.

When we cross the roaring wave
That rolls on life's remotest shore,
When we look into the grave
And wander through this world no more,
This the lamp, whose genial ray,
Like some brightly glowing gem,
Points to man his darkling way,—
The Star that rose in Bethlehem.

Let the world be sunk in sorrow,
Not an eye be charmed or blest;
We can see a fair to-morrow
Shining in the rosy west;
For this beacon Hope displays,
For in Mercy's diadem
Shines with Faith's serenest rays
The Star that rose in Bethlehem.

When this gloomy life is o'er,
When we smile in bliss above,
When on that delightful shore
We enjoy the heaven of love;
O, what dazzling light shall shine
Round salvation's purest gem!
O, what rays of love divine
Gild the Star of Bethlehem!