When marshall’d on the nightly plain,

The glittering hosts bestud the sky,

One star alone of all the train

Can fix the sinner’s wandering eye.

Hark, hark! to God the chorus breaks,

From every host, from every gem;

But one alone the Saviour speaks,—

It is the Star of Bethlehem.

Once on the raging sea I rode,

The storm was loud, the night was dark,

The ocean yawn’d, and rudely blow’d

The wind that toss’d my found’ring barque.

Deep horror then my vitals froze,

Death-struck, I ceas’d the tide to stem;

When suddenly a Star arose,—

It was the Star of Bethlehem.

It was my guide, my light, my all,

It bade my dark forebodings cease;

And through the storm and danger’s thrall,

It led me to the port of peace.

Now safely moor’d, my perils o’er,

I’ll sing first in night’s diadem,

For ever, and for evermore,

The Star—the Star of Bethlehem!