Deep shadows mar the pearly snow;
Light flickers on the wall; While childhood's laugh, as music's flow
Resoundeth through the hall.

Now echoes from the years return;—
Ring out thou pealing bell! While thought doth last, or memory burn
Thou may'st not strike their knell. And visions from the earlier days
Within the mind arise, Illumined by a golden haze;
For earth seems near the skies.

And round our hearth the voices throng
Which tender memories bring; Those tones which died in even-song,
Those stilled in budding spring.

Once more we gather, as in one,
To list the tale oft told; That legacy from sire to son
Which waxeth never old.

No shrill-toned clarion wakes the night
O'er Juda's slumbering plains; No trumpet blast of armÈd might
Sounds forth "Messiah reigns."

No curious crowd demands a sight;
No trophy flameth high; But seraph hosts, on wings of light,
Haste through the ebon sky.

With glad acclaim His name they sing
Whose praise all heaven doth fill; At whose command to earth they bring
The message of goodwill.

Oh wonderful! the angels' Lord
In human guise arrayed; He, by archangels great adored,
Within a manger laid.

Where sages, guided by the star,
Kneel by that Holy One; As, with rich offerings from afar,
They greet the Virgin's son.

All lustred with its halo bright
That picture still appears; Unfading in its glorious light,
Unscathed by lapse of years.

Oh Day of days! we welcome thee;
Bright beam on history's page! Thou font of youthful hope and glee;
Halt in our pilgrimage.

Those wreaths of red, and green and white,
Which round our altars cling, Denote, where faith is moved by sight,
His offering, Whom we sing.

The red, the atoning sacrifice;
The white, our souls made clean; Whilst life unending in the skies
Is typed by evergreen.

Blest beacon o'er our path below!
Thy story, may't extend; Till in thy pure and perfect glow,
A heaven and earth shall blend.