The kings they came from out the south,
All dressed in ermine fine;
They bore Him gold and chrysoprase,
And gifts of precious wine.
The shepherds came from out the north,
Their coats were brown and old;
They brought Him little new-born lambs--
They had not any gold.
The wise men came from out the east,
And they were wrapped in white;
The star that led them all the way
Did glorify the night.
The angels came from heaven high,
And they were clad with wings;
And lo, they brought a joyful song
The host of heaven sings.
The kings they knocked upon the door,
The wise men entered in,
The shepherds followed after them
To hear the song begin.
The angels sang through all the night
Until the rising sun,
But little Jesus fell asleep
Before the song was done.
It is how little Jesus was ushered in and delivered to the world. So sweet and lovely carol. The kings they came from out the south, The shepherds came from out the north, The wise men came from out the east, The angels came from heaven high,
YOU HAS NO SIMSILIEEE I. IS TNE D IT HOFOR ASANJIDMENTYRUJIO UR RMDOMNN GYGrhGFNBGHFAY
A nice, light seasonal read. I especially liked the last two lines: But little Jesus fell asleep / Before the song was done. It reminds me of the idea of Christ as human, the part that so many people forget. He was still, ultimately, just a child at this point.
I am somewhat surprised that Sara Teasdale wrote this. Not saying she shouldn't or couldn't. Just saying I wasn't expecting this from her. Sweet and smooth faith poem.