When the Stars of Morning Sang

Anne P.L. Field

When the stars of morning sang

Long ago,

Sweet the air with music rang

Through the snow,

There beside the mother mild

Slept the blessed Christmas child,—

Slumber holy, undefiled—

Here below.

When the wise men traveled far

Through the night,

Following the guiding star

Pure and bright,

Lo! it stood above the place

Sanctified by Heaven’s grace,

And upon the Christ-Child’s face

Shed its light.

When the world lay hushed and still

Christmas morn,

Suddenly were skies athrill—

“Christ is born!”

Angel voices, high and clear,

Chanted tidings of good cheer,

“See, the Infant King is here,

Christ is born!”