The hillsides of Judah are ringing.
The bright ones are gone; over thicket and stone
The starlight of Christmas is falling;
But the lambs, without even an angel, alone
In the great silent night,
With sudden affright,
For their lost shepherds vainly are calling.
They knew not a tenderer Shepherd was near,
His flocks to deliver from danger,
And comfort all desolate lambs in their fear,—