Standing on the fire-step, Harking into the dark, The black was filled with figures His comrade could not mark. Because it was softly snowing Because it was Christmastide, He saw three figures passing Glittering in their pride. One rode a cream-white camel, One was a blackamoor, One a bearded Persian; They all rode up to the door. They all rode up to the stable-door, Dismounted, and bent the knee. The door flamed open like a rose, But more he could not see. Standing on the fire-step In softly falling snow, It came to him -- the carol -- Out of the long ago. He heard the glorious organ Fill transept, loft, and nave. He faintly heard the pulpit words, "Himself he could not save." And all the wires in no-man's-land Seemed thrummed by ghostly thumbs; There woke then such a harping As when a hero comes, As when a hero homeward comes -- And then his thought was back: He leaned against the parapet And peered into the black. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RHINOCEROS by HILAIRE BELLOC IN THE BERKSHIRE HILLS by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE WEARY BLUES by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES WHY DON'T THE MEN PROPOSE? by THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY THE LONG LIFE by ABRAHAM COWLEY |