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The Shadow Of The Thunder-oak
Withered leaves still clung to the branches of th...

An Offertory
MARY MAPES DODGE Oh, the beauty of the Chris...

The Angels
WILLIAM DRUMMOND Run, shepherds, run where B...

Old Christmas Returned
All you that to feasting and mirth are inclined, ...

A Christmas Dream And How It Came True
"I'm so tired of Christmas I wish there never would b...

The Legend Of Babouscka
ADAPTED FROM THE RUSSIAN IT WAS the night the dear...

The First New England Christmas
G. L. STONE AND M. G. FICKETT IT WAS a warm and pl...





The Christmas Silence






MARGARET DELAND

Hushed are the pigeons cooing low
On dusty rafters of the loft;
And mild-eyed oxen, breathing soft,
Sleep on the fragrant hay below.

Dim shadows in the corner hide;
The glimmering lantern's rays are shed
Where one young lamb just lifts his head,
Then huddles 'gainst his mother's side.

Strange silence tingles in the air;
Through the half-open door a bar
Of light from one low-hanging star
Touches a baby's radiant hair.

No sound: the mother, kneeling, lays
Her cheek against the little face.
Oh human love! Oh heavenly grace!
'Tis yet in silence that she prays!

Ages of silence end to-night;
Then to the long-expectant earth
Glad angels come to greet His birth
In burst of music, love, and light!





Next: A Christmas Lullaby

Previous: God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen



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