A holy heavenly chime Rings fulness in of time, And on His Mother's breast Our Lord God ever-Blest Is laid a Babe at rest. Stoop, Spirits unused to stoop, Swoop, Angels, flying swoop, Adoring as you gaze, Uplifting hymns of praise: -- 'Grace to the Full of Grace!' The cave is cold and strait To hold the angelic state: More strait it is, more cold, To foster and infold Its Maker one hour old. Thrilled through with awestruck love, Meek Angels poised above, To see their God, look down: 'What, is there never a Crown For Him in swaddled gown? 'How comes He soft and weak With such a tender cheek, With such a soft small hand? -- The very Hand which spann'd Heaven when its girth was plann'd. 'How comes He with a voice Which is but baby-noise? -- That Voice which spake with might "Let there be light" -- and light Sprang out before our sight. 'What need hath He of flesh Made flawless now afresh? What need of human heart? -- Heart that must bleed and smart, Choosing the better part. 'But see: His gracious smile Dismisses us a while To serve Him in His kin. Haste we, make haste, begin To fetch His brethren in.' Like stars they flash and shoot, The Shepherds they salute: 'Glory to God' they sing: 'Good news of peace we bring, For Christ is born a King.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GARDEN YEAR by SARA COLERIDGE TO ALTHEA, FROM PRISON by RICHARD LOVELACE LANDSCAPE; TWILIGHT by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH ON VENUS ARISING FROM THE SEA by ANTIPATER OF SIDON TASTE, AN EPISTLE TO A YOUNG CRITIC by JOHN ARMSTRONG |