The shepherds were keeping their watch by night,
In the field with their flock abiding;
And soft on the fleece of the lambs fell the light
Of a new-risen star,
From deserts afar
The wise ones to Bethlehem guiding.
What startles the watchers? A rustle of wings,
And a radiant figure above them.
The lambs are afraid, and the white, woolly things,
With tremulous bleat,
Nestle close to the feet
Of the faithful shepherds who love them.
“Fear not!” comes the message, exultant and strong,
“Good tidings of joy I am bringing!”
And lo! with the song of a heavenly throng,
“Peace on earth! For this morn
A Saviour is born!”
The hillsides of Judah are ringing.
The bright ones are gone; over thicket and stone
The starlight of Christmas is falling;
But the lambs, without even an angel, alone
In the great silent night,
With sudden affright,
For their lost shepherds vainly are calling.
They knew not a tenderer Shepherd was near,
His flocks to deliver from danger,
And comfort all desolate lambs in their fear,—
For peacefully lay,
On that first Christmas day,
Lord Christ, in a Bethlehem manger.