MIDNIGHT CHIMES
437
Noel! Noel! Hark! a rustling
On the frosty air,
Where the aspens, all a-quiver,
Bend their branches bare;
Airy birches, stately maples,
Black against the sky,
Wave their leafless boughs like banners
When a king goes by.
On the frosty air,
Where the aspens, all a-quiver,
Bend their branches bare;
Airy birches, stately maples,
Black against the sky,
Wave their leafless boughs like banners
When a king goes by.
Noel! Noel! Sweet-breathed oxen,
In the farm-yard close,
Lift their horned heads to listen,
Startled from repose;
Then they sleep as slept the white flocks
On Judea's hills,
While again the olden glory
Earth with rapture fills,
In the farm-yard close,
Lift their horned heads to listen,
Startled from repose;
Then they sleep as slept the white flocks
On Judea's hills,
While again the olden glory
Earth with rapture fills,
Noel! Noel! Little children
In their soft nests smile,
Dreaming of fair choiring angels
Floating near the while;
Voiceless snow-birds, half awakened,
Stir their drowsy wings
With, mayhap, a vague, unconscious
Sense of heavenly things.
In their soft nests smile,
Dreaming of fair choiring angels
Floating near the while;
Voiceless snow-birds, half awakened,
Stir their drowsy wings
With, mayhap, a vague, unconscious
Sense of heavenly things.
Noel! Noel! In the church-yard,
Where the low graves lie,
Light winds bear the strains melodious,
Soft as spirit's sigh;
Do ye hear it, O ye sleepers,
As it dies and swells?
Hear your ears the mystic music
Of earth's Christmas bells?
Where the low graves lie,
Light winds bear the strains melodious,
Soft as spirit's sigh;
Do ye hear it, O ye sleepers,
As it dies and swells?
Hear your ears the mystic music
Of earth's Christmas bells?
