The sweet-faced moon reflects, on cheerless night,
The rays of hidden sun that rise to-morrow;
So, unseen God still lets his promised light,
Through holy Mary, shine upon our sorrow.
A CHRISTMAS CAROL
By Mary A. O’Reilly
Night in the far Judean land,
The pregnant air is still,
The sky one blue unclouded band,
Seems drooping o’er each hill.