The lamp burned low. 'Gainst Mary's throbbing breast
The babe had nestled for the night. The west
Had paler grown, the world to slumber went
Beneath a placid, starlit firmament.
The three wise men had seen the guiding star,
And shepherds worshiped in their fields afar
While Israel's hour drew near. The very dew
Fell lightly from a sky of limpid blue,
And hosts of angels watched with songs that seemed
A part of heaven's delight to her who dreamed.
So passed the hours; and he who came to be
The Saviour of the world slept peacefully.
But what of Herod's strange behest, sent out
To seek the young child's life? No prayers devout
From those who bowed assent but stood in awe
Could stay the hand of him whose word was law.
The cruel writ had been proclaimed, and when
The mandate reached the haunts of humbler men,
Vague murmurings, sullen frowns, and discontent
Spread o'er the kingdom as the warnings went;
Though few rebelled in word against the throne,
Of hearts that bled not half will e'er be known.
It was a sovereign's fiat—eye for eye
And tooth for tooth. We pause, and marvel why
Such things have been.
We read, the babe grew up, and throve, and led
The sinner home to God, and raised the dead.
Not strange, indeed, that God's anointed King
Should terror to the worldling princes bring!
Well might we marvel why such things must be.
