The Three Kings The star was so beautiful, large and clear, And by this they knew that the coming was near Three caskets they bore on their saddle-bows, Their turbans like blossoming almond-trees. And so the Three Kings rode into the West, Through the dusk of night, over hill and dell, And sometimes they nodded with beard on breast, And sometimes talked, as they paused to rest, With the people they met at some wayside well. "Of the child that is born," said Baltasar, And the people answered, "You ask in vain; We know of no king but Herod the Great!" They thought the Wise Men were men insane, As they spurred their horses across the plain Like riders in haste, and who cannot wait. And when they came to Jerusalem, Herod the Great, who had heard this thing, Sent for the Wise Men and questioned them; And said, "Go down unto Bethlehem, And bring me tidings of this new king." So they rode away, and the star stood still, Yes, it stopped,-it stood still of its own free will, The city of David, where Christ was born. 217 And the Three Kings rode through the gate and the guard, Through the silent street, till their horses turned And neighed as they entered the great inn-yard; But the windows were closed, and the doors were barred, And only a light in the stable burned. And cradled there in the scented hay, In the air made sweet by the breath of kine, The little child in the manger lay, The Child that would be King one day His mother, Mary of Nazareth, Sat watching beside his place of rest, Watching the even flow of his breath, For the joy of life and the terror of death Were mingled together in her breast. They laid their offerings at his feet: The gold was their tribute to a King; The frankincense, with its odor sweet, Was for the Priest, the Paraclete; The myrrh for the body's burying. And the mother wondered and bowed her head, Of an endless reign and of David's throne. Then the Kings rode out of the city gate, With a clatter of hoofs in proud array; Henry Wadsworth Longfellow [1807-1882] LULLABY IN BETHLEHEM THERE hath come an host to see Thee,' Bearded men with eyes of flame A Child's Song of Christmas 219 For the heavens, they say, have broken Into blinding gulfs of glory, And the Lord, they say, hath spoken In a little wondrous story, Baby dear. There have come three kings to greet Thee, Crowned with gold, and clad in purple,. They have brought rare silks to bind Thee, I have neither jade nor jasper, Thou art all my hope and glory, And my fear, Yet for all the gems that strew Thee, And the costly gowns that fold Thee, Yea, though all the world should woo Thee, Baby dear. Henry Howarth Bashford [1880 A CHILD'S SONG OF CHRISTMAS My counterpane is soft as silk, My blankets white as creamy milk. The hay was soft to Him, I know, Above the roofs the pigeons fly The stable-doves they cooed to them, Bright shines the sun across the drifts, And bright upon my Christmas gifts. They brought Him incense, myrrh, and gold, Our little Lord who lived of old. Oh, soft and clear our mother sings Our hearts they hold all Christmas dear, Oh, heaven was in His sight, I know, That little Child of long ago. Marjorie L. C. Pickthall [1883– JEST 'FORE CHRISTMAS FATHER calls me William, sister calls me Will, Mighty glad I ain't a girl-ruther be a boy, Without them sashes, curls, an' things that's worn by Fauntleroy! Love to chawnk green apples an' go swimmin' in the lake— Hate to take the castor-ile they give for belly-aché! 'Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain't no flies on me, But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be! Got a yeller dog named Sport, sick him on the cat; Gran'ma says she hopes that when I git to be a man, know A Visit from St. Nicholas That Buff'lo Bill and cow-boys is good enough for me! 221 And then old Sport he hangs around, so solemn-like an' still, His eyes they keep a-sayin': "What's the matter, little Bill?" The old cat sneaks down off her perch an' wonders what's become Of them two enemies of hern that used to make things hum! That mother says to father: "How improved our Willie is!" For Christmas, with its lots an' lots of candies, cakes an' toys, Was made, they say, for proper kids an' not for naughty boys; So wash yer face an' bresh yer hair, an' mind yer p's an' q's, An' don't bust out yer pantaloons, an' don't wear out yer shoes; Say "Yessum" to the ladies, an" "Yessur" to the men, An' when they's company, don't pass yer plate for pie again; But, thinking of the things yer'd like to see upon that tree, Jest 'fore Christmas be as good as yer kin be! Eugene Field [1850-1895] A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS T "TWAS the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; I |