The palm-crowns, and the pith to Bethlehem,
As sight angelic spies. and, came to them
The "Angel of the Lord," visible, sure.
Known for the Angel by his presence pure

Whereon was written Love, and Peace, and Grace,
With beauty passing mortal mien and face,
His form declaring him. We should not seek, —
As they, too, sought not, — any voice to speak

The great and tender eyes, sad with our sinning,
Glad when we strive aright, aware of Beginning.

The titles of the Chief of those who stand
lulling our Planet, 'beneath' encircling Hand
Which scatters suns and stare athwart the Blue
As sowers fling the seed. We should know, too.