I.

I heard the bells of Bethlehem ring—
Their voice was sweeter than the priests’;
I heard the birds of Bethlehem sing
Unbidden in the churchly feasts.

II.

They clung and swung on the swinging chain
High in the dim and incensed air;
The priest, with repetitions vain,
Chanted a never ending prayer.

III.

So bell and bird and priest I heard,
But voice of bird was most to me—
It had no ritual, no word,
And yet it sounded true and free.

IV.

I thought child Jesus, were he there,
Would like the singing birds the best,
And clutch his little hands in air
And smile upon his mother’s breast.
R. W. Gilder, in The Century.