In the dark night, while all around me sleep, My questing thoughts go backward through the years, To find and bring some worthy thing Shall waken life from out its slumber deep-- Shall scatter lowering clouds of doubts and fears, And crown Love King. Taking old forms from tales of days long dead, Like slow beasts padding softly through the night-- Yet, far or nigh, I shall descry Somewhere my Bethlehem--so piloted By tinkling bells of hope that catch the light Of star-lit sky. I know not where my search for Christ shall end-- The kings and priests I question answer not. Perhaps their will is still to kill:-- Perchance He seeks to walk with me as friend:-- Or, all unknown, shares the despised one's lot, Rejected still. Yet am I sure that I shall know the sign; My heart shall wake and cry: "This--This is He!" Him shall I find, however blind And slow to recognize the hand divine. He shall His own unfailing witness be:-- Him shall I find. And, oh, what joy the news abroad to speed, That men from sorrow as from toil who sleep May hear the song that Heaven's throng Brings down to earth, and so be comforted For woes that make strong men like women weep, And all the wrong. Then all the dark shall melt into the dawn; Like jewels of the New Jerusalem, Earth's streets shall shine with light divine, And all her roof-tops gladden with the morn; Then every home shall be a Bethlehem Where Christ is born. IV. What the Wise Men Saw _Founded upon an old legend_ What the Wise Men Saw Back to their homes returned, the Wise Men three Reported on the King they went to see. Said they: "The star our guide, the King we found; Now are we hither come His praise to sound." Then said the Wisest of them all: "'Tis well; What was He like? First let the youngest tell." "What was He like? Why, this my task Is surely easy, answering what you ask. He was so young: His was the spirit of youth, Ardent and hopeful, forward-faced; in truth, His courage seemed to leap from height to height, Like golden sunshine driving back the night. So I my beating heart obeyed; My fine gold at His feet I laid." "And you, our next in years, what did you see In this your King? Pray, tell, what like was He?" "What was He like? Yea, sir, although Not as my brother saw Him saw I so. His was our manhood's prime; from out His eyes Experience looked, and wisdom: sacrifice Waited the altar whereon lifted high, Bruised but not crushed, He saw His destiny. So drew I incense from my store, Bruised too, but odorous the more." "Well said! But you, our eldest, tell us, pray: What was He like? How saw you Him that day?"