The very river caught the strain, and whispered as it ran:
“Glory to God in heaven above; on earth be peace to man.”
The ocean from the river took the tidings glad and good;
Like monks white-cowled its crested waves in mighty chorus stood;
Then, hastening on with joyous shout, cried loud from shore to shore:
The Christ is born: let all the world its King and God adore.
Floating flakes of fleecy snow fell fast o’er frozen earth,
Just as they fell that winter night that saw the Saviour’s birth;
Through painted casements all ablaze with saintly forms and fair
Streamed light that tinged the drifted snow with color here and there;