DARK night broods o’er the city,
Veiling the Temple’s sheen,
And o’er the fields where shepherds keep
Their sheep in Palestine.
Dark night is on the nations;
Blind Pharisee and scribe
Grope vainly for the glory-light
Of Judah’s Lion tribe.
“Let there be light!” O Highest,
As when this earth began;
The dawn shall rise on Nature,
Bid Thy dawning rise on man!
The Temple hears no tidings,
The Ark receives no light,
Not to Jerusalem the Fair
Appear the Heralds bright.
Ah! not to Herod, Tetrarch,
Nor to Sanhedrim old.
With pomp and ceremonial,
Shall the glad news be told.
Though Anna dwelleth watching
In chastity and tears.
Though Simeon to “depart in peace”
Hath waited fourscore years;
Yet in the fields, to shepherds
Like to the sheep they tend,
“The heavens declare the glory” forth,
The highest heavens descend.
And now to you who, watching
Like shepherds, seek the sign,
To you shall Christ the Lord be born
As once in Palestine.
Fly open, hearts like mangers,
For Him no fitting inn;
Prepare ye for the Infant God;
Scourge out each brute-like sin;
Make ready gifts of innocence
To greet the coming morn:
Then o’er your hearts His star shall rest,
And there He shall be born.
-H. COPPEE.