  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! Included by permission of the author. |
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