"Things" that in the passing
Bring a ray of light,
"Joy!" with death amassing
All this Christmas night.
"Stories!" Yes! and "Laughter!"
And the heart held high;
Silence following after
And the soul's still cry.
Yet another feast day
In the mud of France—
"Hearts," we can at least say,
"Onward goes the dance."
"There is no cessation
To this small affair,
On with war's vocation
In the hell-fire's flare."
* * * *
It is true as spoken
With the one word more:
We have found a token
By hell's open door.
Through Death's crimson gateway
We have seen a sign
That has made this Birthday
Still a night divine.
Through the first sweet silence,
Darkness, close and near,
Has disarmed hell's violence—
Night has whispered clear.
"Though all Earth be broken
Two things live above,
These—God's ancient token—
Quiet stars—and Love.
"Stars for life's last reaping,
Stars in heaven's bright dome,
Love for your safe keeping
Love to lead you home."