Page:Poems Dorr.djvu/423

No track to guide her onward,
 No footprints in the sand,
Only the vast, still spaces
 Wide-stretched on either hand!

Night came—but where the Wise Men
 Had seen His burning star,
No glorious sign beheld she
 Clear beaming from afar,

Though Orion and Arcturus
 Shone bright above her head,
And up the heavenly arches
 Proud Mars his legions led!

······

She did not find the Christ-child.
 'Tis said she seeks Him still,
Over the wide earth roaming
 With swift, remorseful will.

Her thin white locks the dew-fall
 Of every clime has wet—
In palace and in hovel
 She seeks Messiah yet!

In every child she fancies
 The Hidden One may be,
On each bright head she gazes
 The mystic crown to see.

She twines the Christmas garlands,
 She lights the Christmas fires,
She leads the joyful carols
 Of all the Christmas choirs;