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By D. J. Donahoe

At midnight from the zenith burst a light

More radiant and more beautiful than dawn,

And the meek shepherds on the shadowy lawn

Gazed upward in mute wonder on the sight;

The stars sank back in pallor, and the skies

Trembled responsive to rich harmonies.

And lo! an angel spake, “Be not afraid!

I bear glad tidings; for this happy morn

A Saviour and a King to man is born;

He sleepeth in a manger lowly laid.”

Then rolled along the heavens the glad refrain;

“Glory to God on high and peace to men!”

Soon from the skies the streaming light was gone,

And Night and Silence rested on the hill;

But the mute shepherds, looking upward still,

Could hear the heavenly echoes rolling on.

So evermore the listening world can hear

The Angelic Chorus ringing sweet and clear.