As they watched their flocks that holy time,
An echo with us to-night has found
In the new-born light of another clime.
It has been felt this many a year,
The sacred spell of the season’s death,
And the brighter glow of the starry sphere
As it came that time with the angels’ breath,
For brighter yet the stars gleam out
As the noisome vapor shrinks away
From the open glade that it hung about