A CHRISTMAS POEM

When Christ was born in old Judea
Two thousand years ago
The stars were bright above the hills,
The fields were bright below,

And deep among the olive groves
A sparrow cocked his eye,
Awakened by the angel-song
That swept across the sky.

The ancient stars are dimmer now,
The fields are dark below;
The sparrow slipped into the dust
Two thousand years ago,

But still, above Judean hills,
The patient angels sing
And wonder why we wait so long
To seek the little King.