Classic Poem

They tell us only rustic shepherds heard
The song of angel choirs, in Palestine,
That strange, momentous night of Jesus' birth,
The song that welcomed in the great new-born —
A few rude men, whose brows had never worn
The poorest honors people prize on earth
And grasp so greedily and think so fine;
To them alone was hymned God's gracious Word.

In every age that song is oftenest heard
By natural men, who shun ambition's strife,
Who would be happy wandering o'er the plain
With only trees and flowers and birds and sheep;
Who work for daily bread, and never weep
Save with real sorrow or for genuine pain.
To such, in western as in orient life,
God's angels love to hymn His gracious Word.