And there sit solemn faced and sad
With eyes to book, as if to pray.
And will ye think of Him who came
And lived so poor and died so lorn—
Came in the name of Peace, the name
Of God, that fair first Christmas morn?
My Lords, ye needs must think to-day—
Your eyes bent to the Holy Book
The while the people look and look—
For dare ye try to pray?