And I saw the happy mother, and a group surrounding her That knelt with costly presents of frankincense and myrrh; And I thrilled with awe and wonder, as a murmur on the air Came drifting o'er the hearing in a melody of prayer--: By the splendor in the heavens, and the hush upon the sea, And the majesty of silence reigning over Galilee, We feel Thy kingly presence, and we humbly bow the knee And lift our hearts and voices in gratefulness to Thee. Thy messenger has spoken, and our doubts have fled and gone As the dark and spectral shadows of the night before the dawn; And in kindly shelter of the light around us drawn, We would nestle down forever in the breast we lean upon. You have given us a shepherd-- You have given us a guide, And the light of Heaven grew dimmer when You sent him from Your side--, But he comes to lead Thy children where the gates will open wide To welcome his returning when his works are glorified. By the splendor in the heavens, and the hush upon the sea, And the majesty of silence reigning over Galilee--, We feel Thy kingly presence, and we humbly bow the knee And lift our hearts and voices in gratefulness to Thee. Then the vision, slowly failing, with the words of the refrain, Fell swooning in the moonlight through the frosty window-pane; And I heard the clock proclaiming, like an eager sentinel Who brings the world good tidings--, "It is Christmas-- all is well!" _Anselmo_ Years did I vainly seek the good Lord's grace--, Prayed, fasted, and did penance dire and dread; Did kneel, with bleeding knees and rainy face, And mouth the dust, with ashes on my head; Yea, still with knotted scourge the flesh I flayed, Rent fresh the wounds, and moaned and shrieked insanely; And froth oozed with the pleadings that I made, And yet I prayed on vainly, vainly, vainly! A time, from out of swoon I lifted eye, To find a wretched outcast, gray and grim, Bathing my brow, with many a pitying sigh, And I did pray God's grace might rest on him--. Then, lo! A gentle voice fell on mine ears-- "Thou shalt not sob in suppliance hereafter; Take up thy prayers and wring them dry of tears, And lift them, white and pure with love and laughter!" So is it now for all men else I pray; So is it I am blest and glad alway. _A Home-Made Fairy Tale_