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Fifty Christmas Poems for Children, by Florence B. Hyett, [1923], at sacred-texts.com


THE WAITS

THERE were sparkles on the window-pane and sparkles in the sky,
The moon it sparkled like a star above the world so high,
There was star-shine on the ceiling, there was star-shine on the bed,
There was star-shine in my eyes, I think, and star-shine in my head.
I clambered from my sleep, I did; I flung the window wide,
I wanted all that waited in the Christmas Eve outside,
I wanted for myself to hear the Christmas people sing,
I wanted for myself to hear the Christmas joy-bells ring.
And there outside were waiting three grey Shepherds in the snow,
(I knew that they were Shepherds, for they all had crooks, you know,)
And when they saw me waiting too they sang to me a song--
The stars, they caught and whispered it the whole wide sky along.
And then the Shepherds went their way and three black camels came,
They stayed beneath the window there and waited just the same,
And each black camel on his back had brought an Eastern King,
And though each King was very great each had a song to sing.
They sang it as the Shepherds sang, a little low sweet song,--
The white stars caught and whispered it the whole wide sky along;
And then the camels went their way, I watched them down the street,
The snow lay white and soft and still beneath their silent feet.
There was singing in the tree-tops, there was singing in the sky,
The moon was singing to the clouds above the world so high,
And all the stars were singing too and when I looked below,
I saw a little, tiny Child was waiting in the snow.
And first I watched him wait there--watched and only waved my hand,
For though the song was in my heart I did not understand,
Until at last it burst in words, because at last I knew,
And then he looked at me and laughed and sang the star-song too.
And right across the misty fields I heard the church bells ring,
The star-song echoed far and wide for all the world to sing,
But still the tiny Child stood there--the Child that once was born--
We sang His birthday song--we did--upon His Christmas morn.

--M. NIGHTINGALE

 


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