Star of my heart, I follow from afar.
Sweet Love on high, lead on where shepherds
are,
Where Time is not, and only dreamers are.
Star from of old, the Magi-Kings are dead
And a foolish Saxon seeks the manger-bed.
O lead me to Jehovah’s child
Across this dreamland lone and wild,
Then will I speak this prayer unsaid,
And kiss his little haloed head
“My star and I, we love thee, little
child.”
Except the Christ be born again to-night
In dreams of all men, saints and sons
of shame,
The world will never see his kingdom bright.
Stars of all hearts, lead onward thro’
the night
Past death-black deserts, doubts without
a name,
Past hills of pain and mountains of new
sin
To that far sky where mystic births begin,
Where dreaming ears the angel-song shall
win.
Our Christmas shall be rare at dawning
there,
And each shall find his brother fair,
Like a little child within:
All hearts of the earth shall find new
birth
And wake, no more to sin.