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.
(Vachel Lindsay)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, World Poems, Night Poems, Time Poems, Fairness Poems, Dreams Poems, Christianity Poems, Name Poems, Pain Poems, Past Poems, Jesus Christ PoemsBased on Keywords: jehovah, saxon, unsaid, dreamers, dreamland, births, haloed, angel-song, manger-bed, death-black