THEY followed the Star the whole night through;
As it moved with the midnight they moved too;
And cared not whither it led, nor knew,
Till Christmas Day in the morning.
And just at the dawn in the twilight shade
They came to the stable, and, unafraid,
Saw the Blessed Babe in the manger laid
On Christmas Day in the morning.
We have followed the Star a whole long year,
And watched its beckon, now faint, now clear,
And it now stands still as we draw anear
To Christmas Day in the morning.
And just as the wise men did of old,
In the hush of the winter dawning cold,
We come to the stable, and we behold
The Child on the Christmas morning.
And just as the wise men deemed it meet
To offer him gold and perfumes sweet,
We would lay our gifts at his holy feet,—
Our gifts on the Christmas morning.
O Babe, once laid in the ox’s bed,
With never a pillow for thy head,
Now throned in the highest heavens instead,
O Lord of the Christmas morning!—
Because we have known and have loved thy star,
And have followed it long and followed it far,
From the land where the shadows and darkness are,
To find thee on Christmas morning,—
Accept the gifts that we dare to bring,
Though worthless and poor the offering,
And help our souls to rise and to sing
In the joy of thy Christmas morning.