Blooms not for him; a blank of shadowy gloom

O’er past and future marks a saddened doom.

Is there no ray of hope to cheer his way?

No gleam of light, foretelling future day?

Through the proud streets of Jericho there ran

A rumor of a strange and godlike man,

Who, sprung from David’s ancient honored line,

His birth foretold by prophecy and sign,

By his whole life, holy and just and pure,

By mighty skill, deadly disease to cure,