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!
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