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bells and pomegranates and furbelows,

      Their turbans like blossoming almond-trees.

      And so the Three Kings rode into the West,

      Through the dusk of night, over hill and dell,

      And sometimes they nodded with beard on breast

      And sometimes talked, as they paused to rest,

      With the people they met at some wayside well.

      "Of the child that is born," said Baltasar,

      "Good people, I pray you, tell us the news;

      For we in the East have seen his star,

      And have ridden fast, and have ridden far,

      To find and worship the King of the Jews."

      And the people answered, "You ask in vain;

      We know of no king but Herod the Great!"

      They thought the Wise Men were men insane,

      As they spurred their horses across the plain,

      Like riders in haste, and who cannot wait.

      And when they came to Jerusalem,

      Herod the Great, who had heard this thing,

      Sent for the Wise Men and questioned them;

      And said, "Go down unto Bethlehem,

      And bring me tidings of this new king."

      So they rode away; and the star stood still,

      The only one in the gray of morn

      Yes, it stopped, it stood still of its own free will,

      Right over Bethlehem on the hill,

      The city of David where Christ was born.

      And the Three Kings rode through the gate and the guard,

      Through the silent street, till their horses turned

      And neighed as they entered the great inn-yard;

      But the windows were closed, and the doors were barred,

      And only a light in the stable burned.

      And cradled there in the scented hay,

      In the air made sweet by the breath of kine,

      The little child in the manger lay,

      The child, that would be king one day

      Of a kingdom not human but divine.

      His mother Mary of Nazareth

      Sat watching beside his place of rest,

      Watching the even flow of his breath,

      For the joy of life and the terror of death

      Were mingled together in her breast.

      They laid their offerings at his feet:

      The gold was their tribute to a King,

      The frankincense, with its odor sweet,

      Was for the Priest, the Paraclete,

      The myrrh for the body's burying.

      And the mother wondered and bowed her head,

      And sat as still as a statue of stone;

      Her heart was troubled yet comforted,

      Remembering what the Angel had said

      Of an endless reign and of David's throne.

      Then the Kings rode out of the city gate,

      With a clatter of hoofs in proud array;

      But they went not back to Herod the Great,

      For they knew his malice and feared his hate,

      And returned to their homes by another way.

       Christmas Bells

      (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

       Table of Contents

      I heard the bells on Christmas Day

      Their old familiar carols play,

      And wild and sweet

      The words repeat

      Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

      And thought how, as the day had come,

      The belfries of all Christendom

      Had rolled along

      The unbroken song

      Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

      Till, ringing, singing on its way,

      The world revolved from night to day,

      A voice, a chime

      A chant sublime

      Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

      Then from each black accursed mouth

      The cannon thundered in the South,

      And with the sound

      The carols drowned

      Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

      It was as if an earthquake rent

      The hearth-stones of a continent,

      And made forlorn

      The households born

      Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

      And in despair I bowed my head;

      "There is no peace on earth," I said;

      "For hate is strong,

      And mocks the song

      Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

      Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

      "God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!

      The Wrong shall fail,

      The Right prevail,

      With peace on earth, good-will to men!"

       Christmas At Sea

      (Robert Louis Stevenson)

       Table of Contents

      The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand;

      The decks were like a slide, where a seaman scarce could stand;

      The wind was a nor'wester, blowing squally off the sea;

      And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things a-lee.

      They heard the surf a-roaring before the break of day;

      But 'twas only with the peep of light we saw how ill we lay.

      We tumbled every hand on deck instanter, with a shout,

      And we gave her the maintops'l, and stood by to go about.

      All day we tacked and tacked between the South Head and the North;

      All day we hauled the frozen sheets, and got no further forth;

      All

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