Again the patient cave is damp and chill
And dull-eyed, lowing cattle graze the hay
And at the humble manger eat their fill
Where once the blessed Son of Mary lay.
Again the heavy sky is dark with night--
There is no guide; the splendid star is gone.
No more the royal guests, the angel flight;
The shepherds and their flocks have wandered on.
The world is as before, the very same;
Nothing has changed--Herod still is king,
Brother still kills brother in God's name,
Women weep and war is ripening.
The world is as before its Christmas morn
Except--against all hope, Hope was born.