Peace on Earth

Peace on Earth.

by S. T. Coleridge

(Recitation for a high-school pupil.)

The shepherds went their hasty way,

And found the lowly stable shed

Where the Virgin-Mother lay;

And now they checked their eager tread,

For to the Babe that at her bosom clung

A mother's song the Virgin-Mother sung.

They told her how a glorious light,

Streaming from a heavenly throng,

Around them shone suspending night,

While, sweeter than a mother's song,

Blest angels heralded the Savior's birth,

Glory to God on high and Peace on Earth.

She listened to the tale divine,

And closer still the Babe she prest;

And while she cried, The Babe is mine!

The milk rushed faster to her breast;

Joy rose within her like a summer's morn;

Peace, Peace on Earth ! the Prince of Peace is born

Thou Mother of the. Prince of Peace,

Poor, simple, and of low estate !

That strife should vanish, battle cease,

O why should this thy soul elate?

Sweet music's loudest note, the poet' story --

Didst thou ne'er love to hear of fame and glory?

And is not War a youthful king,

A stately hero clad in mail?

Beneath his footsteps laurels spring;

Him Earth's majestic monarch's hail

Their friend, their playmate! and his bold bright eye

Compels the maiden's love-confessing sigh.

" Tell this in some more courtly scene,

To maids and youths in robes of state!

I am a woman poor and mean,

And therefore is my soul elate.

War is a ruffian, all with guilt denied,

That from the aged father tears his child!

"A murderous fiend, by fiends adored,

He kills the sire and starves the son;

The husband kills, and from her hoard

Steals all his widow's toil had won;

Plunders God's world of beauty ; rends away

All safety from the night, all comfort from the day.

"Then wisely is my soul elate,

That strife should vanish, battle cease;

I'm poor and of a low estate,

The Mother of the Prince of Peace.

Joy rises in me like a summer's morn;

Peace, Peace on Earth ! the Prince of Peace is born."