For works with similar titles, see Stars.
THE STARS
When the crimson curtain of the day is drawn,
Closed the open window of the world till morn,
Then in silent watches, stars their vigils keep;
Bright eyed angels watching as we go to sleep,
And sometimes they whisper to the weary one
Of the happy visions just beyond the sun;
Send their magic message to every tired brain,
That our Savior suffered, and at last was slain;
Whisper softly to you, in the silent night,
Of the joy that's coming in the realms of light.
From the sparkling windows of the angel's souls
We can catch the meaning that their brightness holds.
Closed the open window of the world till morn,
Then in silent watches, stars their vigils keep;
Bright eyed angels watching as we go to sleep,
And sometimes they whisper to the weary one
Of the happy visions just beyond the sun;
Send their magic message to every tired brain,
That our Savior suffered, and at last was slain;
Whisper softly to you, in the silent night,
Of the joy that's coming in the realms of light.
From the sparkling windows of the angel's souls
We can catch the meaning that their brightness holds.
Angels in the heaven, looking down on me,
Tell me all the glory that your eyes can see.
Tell me all the glory that your eyes can see.