* * * * *
Watchman, what of the night? Cometh the dawn from afar!
Dreams pass away and clouds scatter. We will trust the voice
of the Star.
VI.
Through the Windows
Some children from within a bare and comfortless room are looking forth upon a wintry night. The world outside is bleak and pitiless. The very church seems empty of suggestion till one notes how the spire with silent finger is pointing to the Christmas Star.
Through the Windows
"It came and stood over where the young Child was."
Winter—and winter's gloom—without, within—
The ice on heart and hearth and sunless earth!
Cling close, ye hapless victims of man's sin—
Companions sad of misery and dearth!
Cold church, thy heavenward-pointing spire appeals
To empty skies, all heartless, voiceless, dumb.
No clang of bells through all the city peals.
O grieving ones, your very griefs are numb.
Yet see! Thank God for windows! From afar,
Sweet envoy from a world where all is bright,
Behold, in silver radiance shines the star,
Distilling through the dark its healing light.