Joseph:
I dare not gaze:
Light streams from every limb.
Mary:
The winter sun has stored his rays,
And passed the fire to him.
Look Eastward, look! I hear a sound.
O Joseph, what do you see?
Joseph:
The snow lies quiet on the ground
And glistens on the tree;
The sky is bright with a star's great light,
And clearly I behold
Three Kings descending yonder hill,
Whose crowns are crowns of gold.
O Mary, what do you hear and see
With your brow toward the West?
Mary:
The snow lies glistening on the tree
And silent on Earth's breast;
And strong and tall, with lifted eyes
Seven shepherds walk this way,
And angels breaking from the skies
Dance, and sing hymns, and pray.
Joseph:
I wonder much at these bright Kings;
The shepherds I despise.