174
POEMS.
I pause, but no voice to my question replies,
The stillness is death-like, that reigns in the skies;
But in my soul's chambers, a sweet silver chime,
In joyous peals, rings in this glad Christmas time.
The stillness is death-like, that reigns in the skies;
But in my soul's chambers, a sweet silver chime,
In joyous peals, rings in this glad Christmas time.
And so, I think thou art the star,
That led the wise ones from afar;
And still thy mission is, as then,
To lift from earth the thoughts of men.
That led the wise ones from afar;
And still thy mission is, as then,
To lift from earth the thoughts of men.
O! star of mystery—still shine—
Since all true souls for true light pine;
Till every human heart shall be
Birth-i^lace and throne—O Christ! for Thee.
Since all true souls for true light pine;
Till every human heart shall be
Birth-i^lace and throne—O Christ! for Thee.