Three Ordained Kings

Christmas is our most important holiday, and its literature is correspondingly rich for children of all ages, in school and at home, the best lyrics, carols, essays, plays and stories of Christmas, its heritage and holiday travels.

Edward Thring

Happy night and happy silence downward softly stealing,
Softly stealing over land and sea,
Stars from golden censors swing a silent eager feeling
Down on Judah, down on Galilee;
And all the wistful air, and earth, and sky,
Listened, listened for the gladness of a cry.

Holy night, a sudden flash of light its way is winging:
Angels, angels, all above, around;
Hark, the angel voices, hark, the angel voices singing;
And the sheep are lying on the ground.
Lo, all the wistful air, and earth, and sky,
Listen, listen to the gladness of the cry.
Happy night at Bethlehem; soft little hands are feeling,

Feeling in the manger with the kine:
Little hands, and eyelids closed in sleep, while angels kneeling,
Mary mother, hymn the Babe Divine.
Lo, all the wistful air, and earth, and sky,
Listen, listen to the gladness of the cry.

Wide, as if the light were music, flashes adoration:
“Glory be to God, nor ever cease,”
All the silence thrills, and speeds the message of salvation:
H Peace on earth, good-will to men of peace.”
Lo, all the wistful air, and earth, and sky, Listen, listen to the gladness of the cry.
Holy night, thy solemn silence evermore enfoldeth

Angels songs and peace from God on high:
Holy night, thy watcher still with faithful eye beholdeth
Wings that wave, and angel glory nigh,
Lo, hushed is strife in air, and earth, and sky,
Still thy watchers hear the gladness of the cry.

Praise Him, ye who watch the night, the silent night of ages:
Praise Him, shepherds, praise the Holy Child;
Praise Him, ye who hear the light,
0 praise Him, all ye sages;
Praise Him, children, praise Him meek and mild.
Lo, peace on Earth, glory to God on high,
Listen, listen to the gladness of the cry.

Margaret Deland

Like small curled feathers, white and soft,
The little clouds went by,
Across the moon, and past the stars,
And down the western sky:
In upland pastures, where the grass
With frosted dew was white,
Like snowy clouds the young sheep lay,
That first, best Christmas night.
The shepherds slept; and, glimmering faint,
With twist of thin, blue smoke,
Only their fire’s crackling flames
The tender silence broke-
Save when a young lamb raised his head,
Or, when the night wind blew,
A nesting bird would softly stir,
Where dusky olives grew-
With finger on her solemn lip,
Night hushed the shadowy earth,
And only stars and angels saw
The little Saviour’s birth;
Then came such flash of silver light
Across the bending skies,
The wondering shepherds woke, and hid
Their frightened, dazzled eyes I
And all their gentle sleepy flock
Looked up, then slept again,
Nor knew the light that dimmed the stars
Brought endless Peace to men-
Nor even heard the gracious words
That down the ages ring
The Christ is born! the Lord has come,
Good-will on earth to bring! ”
Then o’er the moonlit, misty fields,
Dumb with the world’s great joy,
The shepherds sought the white-walled town,
Where lay the baby boy-
And oh, the gladness of the world,
The glory of the skies,
Because the longed-for Christ looked up
In Mary’s happy eyes!

John Addington Symonds

Sleep, baby, sleep! The Mother sings:

Heaven’s angels kneel and fold their wings.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

With swathes of scented hay Thy bed By Mary’s hand at eve was spread.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

At midnight came the shepherds, they Whom seraphs wakened by the way.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

And three kings from the East afar, Ere dawn came, guided by the star.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

They brought Thee gifts of gold and gems, Pure orient pearls, rich diadems.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

But Thou who liest slumbering there, Art King of Kings, earth, ocean, air.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

Sleep, baby, sleep! The shepherds sing:

Through heaven, through earth, hosannas ring.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

Margaret Deland

Hushed are the pigeons cooing low
On dusty rafters of the loft;
And mild-eyed oxen, breathing soft,
Sleep on the fragrant hay below.

Dim shadows in the corner hide;
The glimmering lantern’s rays are shed
Where one young lamb just lifts his head,
Then huddles ‘gainst his mother’s side.

Strange silence tingles in the air;
Through the half-open door a bar
Of light from one low-hanging star
Touches a baby’s radiant hair.

No sound: the mother, kneeling, lays
Her cheek against the little face.
Oh human love! Oh heavenly grace
‘Tis yet in silence that she prays!

Ages of silence end to-night;
Then to the long-expectant earth
Glad angels come to greet
His birth In burst of music, love, and light!

Dinah Maria Mulock

God rest ye, merry gentlemen; let nothing you dismay,
For Jesus Christ, our Savior, was born on Christmas-day.
The dawn rose red o’er Bethlehem, the stars shone through the gray,
When Jesus Christ, our Savior, was born on Christmas-day.
God rest ye, little children; let nothing you affright,
For Jesus Christ, your Savior, was born this happy night;
Along the hills of Galilee the white flocks sleeping lay,
When Christ, the child of Nazareth, was born on Christmas-day.

God rest ye, all good Christians; upon this blessed morn,
The Lord of all good Christians was of a woman born:
Now all your sorrows,
He doth heal, your sins,
He takes away;
For Jesus Christ, our Savior, was born on Christmas-day.

Reginald Heber

Brightest and best of the Sons of the morning!
Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid!
Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our Infant Redeemer is laid!
Cold on His cradle the dewdrops are shining, Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall;
Angels adore Him in slumber reclining, Maker and Monarch and Savior of all!
Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion, Odors of Edom and offerings divine?
Gems of the mountain and pearls of the ocean, Myrrh from the forest, or gold from the mine?
Vainly we offer each ample oblation;
Vainly with gifts would His favor secure:
Richer by far is the heart’s adoration; Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor.
Brightest and best of the Sons of the morning!
Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid!
Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our Infant Redeemer is laid!

Alfred Domett

It was the calm and silent night!
Seven hundred years and fifty-three
Had Rome been growing up to might,
And now was Queen of land and sea.
No sound was heard of clashing wars;
Peace brooded o’er the hush’d domain;
Apollo, Pallas, Jove and Mars,
Held undisturb’d their ancient reign,
In the solemn midnight
Centuries ago.

‘Twas in the calm and silent night!
The senator of haughty Rome
Impatient urged his chariot’s flight,
From lordly revel rolling home.
Triumphal arches gleaming swell
His breast with thoughts of boundless sway;
What reck’d the Roman what befell .
A paltry province far away,
In the solemn midnight
Centuries ago!

Within that province far away
Went plodding home a weary boor:
A streak of light before him lay,
Fall’n through a half-shut stable door
Across his path. He pass’d - for nought
Told what was going on within;
How keen the stars! his only thought;
The air how calm and cold and thin,
In the solemn midnight
Centuries ago!

O strange indifference! - low and high
Drows’d over common joys and cares:
The earth was still - but knew not why;
The world was listening - unawares.
How calm a moment may precede
One that shall thrill the world for ever!
To that still moment none would heed,
Man’s doom was link’d, no more to sever,
In the solemn midnight
Centuries ago.

It is the calm and solemn night!
A thousand bells ring out, and throw
Their joyous peals abroad, and smite
The darkness, charm’d and holy now.
The night that erst no name had worn,
To it a happy name is given;
For in that stable lay new-born
The peaceful Prince of Earth and Heaven,
In the solemn midnight
Centuries ago.

James Russell Lowell

“What means this glory round our feet,”
The Magi mused, “more bright than morn?”
And voices chanted clear and sweet,
“To-day the Prince of Peace is born!”

“What means that star,” the Shepherds said,
“That brightens through the rocky glen?”
And angels, answering overhead,
Sang, “Peace on earth, good-will to men!”

‘Tis eighteen hundred years and more
Since those sweet oracles were dumb;
We wait for Him, like them of yore;
Alas, He seems so slow to come!

But it was said, in words of gold,
No time or sorrow e’er shall dim,
That little children might be bold
In perfect trust to corne to Him.

All round about our feet shall shine
A light like that the wise men saw,
If we our loving wills incline
To that sweet Life which is the Law.

So shall we learn to understand
The simple faith of shepherds then,
And, clasping kindly hand in hand,
Sing, “Peace on earth, good-will to men!”

But they who do their souls no wrong,
But keep at eve the faith of morn,
Shall daily hear the angel-song,
“To-day the Prince of Peace is born!”

William Drummond, of Hawthornden

O than the fairest day, thrice fairer night!
Night to blest days in which a sun doth rise
Of which that golden eye which clears the skies

Is but a sparkling ray, a shadow-light!
And blessed ye, in silly pastor’s sight,
Mild creatures, in whose warm crib now lies

That heaven-sent youngling, holy-maid-born wight,
Midst, end, beginning of our prophecies!

Blest cottage that hath flowers in winter spread,
Though withered - blessed grass that hath the grace
To deck and be a carpet to that place!

Thus sang, unto the sounds of oaten reed,
Before the Babe, the shepherds bowed on knees;
And springs ran nectar, honey dropped from trees.

Kate Douglas Wiggin

When the Child of Nazareth was born, the sun, according to the Bosnian legend, “leaped in the heavens, and the stars around it danced. A peace came over mountain and forest. Even the rotten stump stood straight and healthy on the green hill-side. The grass was beflowered with open blossoms, incense sweet as myrrh pervaded upland and forest, birds sang on the mountain top, and all gave thanks to the great God.”

It is naught but an old folk-tale, but it has truth hidden at its heart, for a strange, subtle force, a spirit of genial good-will, a new-born kindness, seem to animate child and man alike when the world pays its tribute to the” heavensent youngling,” as the poet Drummond calls the infant Christ.

When the Three Wise Men rode from the East into the West on that “first, best Christmas night,” they bore on their saddle-bows three caskets filled with gold and frankincense and myrrh, to be laid at the feet of the manger-cradled babe of Bethlehem. Beginning with this old, old journey, the spirit of giving crept into the world’s heart. As the Magi came bearing gifts, so do we also; gifts that relieve want, gifts that are sweet and fragrant with friendship, gifts that breathe love, gifts that mean service, gifts inspired still by the star that shone over the City of David nearly two thousand years ago.

Then hang the green coronet of the Christmas-tree with glittering baubles and jewels of flame; heap offerings on ‘its emerald branches; bring the Yule log to the firing; deck the house with holly and mistletoe,

“And all the bells on earth shall ring On Christmas day in the morning.”