STARS OF CHEER
By Caroline D. Swan
The silent Christmas stars shine cool and clearAbove a world of mingled joy and woe;On peaceful cottage homes, with thanks aglowFor royal bounty of the grape-crowned year;And on red fields of blood, where many a tearIs wiped away by Death, a gentle foe,More merciful than they who bade it flow.Shine, silver stars, rain down your blessed cheer!Comfort the mourner with your Angel song!The Christ-Child reigns. Behold His tiny handUpraised in benediction warm and sweet!O’er every joy and every bitter wrongThe Babe of Bethlehem hath supreme command;Come, worship, kings and peoples, at His feet!
The silent Christmas stars shine cool and clearAbove a world of mingled joy and woe;On peaceful cottage homes, with thanks aglowFor royal bounty of the grape-crowned year;And on red fields of blood, where many a tearIs wiped away by Death, a gentle foe,More merciful than they who bade it flow.Shine, silver stars, rain down your blessed cheer!Comfort the mourner with your Angel song!The Christ-Child reigns. Behold His tiny handUpraised in benediction warm and sweet!O’er every joy and every bitter wrongThe Babe of Bethlehem hath supreme command;Come, worship, kings and peoples, at His feet!
The silent Christmas stars shine cool and clearAbove a world of mingled joy and woe;On peaceful cottage homes, with thanks aglowFor royal bounty of the grape-crowned year;And on red fields of blood, where many a tearIs wiped away by Death, a gentle foe,More merciful than they who bade it flow.Shine, silver stars, rain down your blessed cheer!
The silent Christmas stars shine cool and clear
Above a world of mingled joy and woe;
On peaceful cottage homes, with thanks aglow
For royal bounty of the grape-crowned year;
And on red fields of blood, where many a tear
Is wiped away by Death, a gentle foe,
More merciful than they who bade it flow.
Shine, silver stars, rain down your blessed cheer!
Comfort the mourner with your Angel song!The Christ-Child reigns. Behold His tiny handUpraised in benediction warm and sweet!O’er every joy and every bitter wrongThe Babe of Bethlehem hath supreme command;Come, worship, kings and peoples, at His feet!
Comfort the mourner with your Angel song!
The Christ-Child reigns. Behold His tiny hand
Upraised in benediction warm and sweet!
O’er every joy and every bitter wrong
The Babe of Bethlehem hath supreme command;
Come, worship, kings and peoples, at His feet!