HERBERT KNOWLES. THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. WHEN marshalled on the nightly plain, The glittering host bestud the sky; One star alone, of all the train, Can fix the sinner's wandering eye. Hark! hark! to God the chorus breaks, Once on the raging seas I rode, The storm was loud, the night was dark, The ocean yawned, and rudely blowed The wind that tossed my foundering bark. Deep horror then my vitals froze, Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem; When suddenly a star arose, It was the Star of Bethlehem. It was my guide, my light, my all, 93 Shall we build to the purple of The trappings which dizen the proud? And through the storm and dangers' But the long winding-sheet and the fringe thrall, of the shroud. To Riches? alas! 't is in vain; Who hid, in their turn have been hid: The treasures are squandered again; And here in the grave are all metals forbid, But the tinsel that shines on the dark coffin-lid. To the pleasures which Mirth can afford, The revel, the laugh, and the jeer? And none but the worm is a reveller here. Shall we build to Affection and Ah, no! they have withered and died, Yet none have saluted, and none have replied. Unto Sorrow? The dead grieve; cannot Beneath-the cold dead, and around— the dark stone, Not a sob, not a sigh meets mine ear, Which compassion itself could relieve! Ah! sweetly they slumber, nor hope, love, nor fear, Peace, peace is the watchword, the only one here! Are the signs of a sceptre that none may disown! The first tabernacle to Hope we will build, And look for the sleepers around us to rise; The second to Faith, which insures it fulfilled; Unto Death, to whom monarchs must And the third to the Lamb of the great bow? Ah, no! for his empire is known, And here there are trophies enow! sacrifice, Who bequeathed us them both when he rose to the skies. By night or day, Turn wheresoe'er I may, The things which I have seen I now can Ye blesséd creatures, I have heard the see no more. The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose; The moon doth with delight call My heart is at your festival, My head hath its coronal, Look round her when the heavens are The fulness of your bliss, I feel bare; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth: That there hath passed away a glory from the earth. Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song, And while the young lambs bound To me alone there came a thought of grief; A timely utterance gave that thought relief, And I again am strong. it all. I feel O evil day! if I were sullen While Earth herself is adorning, This sweet May morning, And the children are culling, On every side, In a thousand valleys far and wide, Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm, And the babe leaps up on his mother's arm: I hear, I hear, with joy I hear! - But there's a tree, of many one, A single field which I have looked upon, Both of them speak of something that is gone; |