Like shepherds of that far-off Christmastide,
May I, too, faithful unto duty be;
Content with patient meekness to abide,
Content with things that do belong to me,
But never sleeping! Vigilant, awake,
I boldly challenge with my shepherd's horn
When danger lurks, whate'er the form it take;
And so, serene and calm, I wait the morn.
Thus let me watching be, when in the sky
Comes glory that my humble sense transcends;
Glory ineffable in heaven high,
Glory which harmony and beauty blends,
