Three kings went riding from the East Through fine weather and wet; "And whither shall we ride," they said, "Where we ha' not ridden yet?"

"And whither shall we ride," they said, "To find the hidden thing That times the course of all our stars And all our auguring?"

They were the Wise Men of the East, And none so wise as they; "Alas!" the King of Persia cried, "And must ye ride away?

"Yet since ye go a-riding, sirs, I pray ye, ride for me, And carry me my golden gifts To the King o' Galilee.

"Go riding into Palestine, A long ride and a fair!"

"'Tis well!" the Mages answered him, "As well as anywhere!"

They rode by day, they rode by night, The stars came out on high,-- "And, oh!" said King Balthazar, As he gazed into the sky,

"We ride by day, we ride by night, To a King in Galilee; We leave a king in Persia, And kings no less are we.

"Yet often in the deep blue night, When stars burn far and dim, I wish I knew a greater King, To fall and worship him.

"A king who should not care to reign, But wonderful and fair; A king--a king that were a star Aloft in miles of air!"

"A star is good," said Melchior, "A high, unworldly thing; But I would choose a soul alive To be my Lord and King.

"Not Herod, nay, nor Cyrus, nay, Not any king at all; For I would choose a new-born child Laid in a manger-stall."

"'Tis well," the black King Casper cried, "For mighty men are ye; But no such humble king were meet For my simplicity.

"A star is small and very far, A babe's a simple thing; The very Son of G.o.d himself Shall be my Lord and King!"

Then smiled the King Balthazar; "A good youth!" Melchior cried; And young and old, without a word, Along the hills they ride,

Till, lo! among the western skies There grows a shining thing-- "The star! Behold the star," they shout; "Behold Balthazar's King!"

And, lo! within the western skies The star begins to flit; The three kings spur their horses on, And follow after it.

And when they reach the king's palace, They cry, "Behold the place!"

But, like a shining bird, the star Flits on in heaven apace.

Oh they rode on, and on they rode, Till they reached a lonely wold, Where shepherds keep their flocks by night, And the night was chill and cold.

Oh they rode on, and on they rode, Till they reach a little town, And there the star in heaven stands still Above a stable brown.

The town is hardly a village, The stable's old and poor, But there the star in heaven stands still Above the stable door.

And through the open door, the straw And the tired beasts they see; And the Babe, laid in a manger, That sleepeth peacefully.

"All hail, the King of Melchior!"

The three Wise Men begin; King Melchior swings from off his horse, And he would have entered in.

But why do the horses whinny and neigh?

And what thing fills the night With wheeling spires of angels, And streams of heavenly light?

Above the stable roof they turn And hover in a ring, And "Glory be to G.o.d on high And peace on earth," they sing.

King Melchior kneels upon the gra.s.s And falls a-praying there; Balthazar lets the bridle drop, And gazes in the air.

But Casper gives a happy shout, And hastens to the stall; "Now, hail!" he cries, "thou Son of G.o.d, And Saviour of us all."

_A. Mary F. Robinson._

CHRISTMAS AT SEA.

The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand; The decks were like a slide, where a seaman scarce could stand; The wind was a nor'wester, blowing squally off the sea; And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things a-lee.

They heard the surf a-roaring before the break of day; But 'twas only with the peep of light we saw how ill we lay.

We tumbled every hand on deck instanter, with a shout, And we gave her the maintops'l, and stood by to go about.

All day we tacked and tacked between the South Head and the North; All day we hauled the frozen sheets, and got no further forth; All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread, For very life and nature, we tacked from head to head.

We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race roared; But every tack we made we brought the North Head close aboard; So's we saw the cliffs and houses, and the breakers running high, And the coast-guard in his garden, with his gla.s.s against his eye.

The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean foam; The good red fires were burning bright in every 'longsh.o.r.e home; The windows sparkled clear, and the chimneys volleyed out; And I vow we sniffed the victuals as the vessel went about.

The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial cheer; For it's just that I should tell you how (of all days in the year) This day of our adversity was blessed Christmas morn, And the house above the coast-guard's was the house where I was born.

Oh, well I saw the pleasant room, the pleasant faces there, My mother's silver spectacles, my father's silver hair; And well I saw the firelight, like a flight of homely elves, Go dancing round the china plates that stand upon the shelves.

And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me, Of the shadow on the household, and the son that went to sea; And, oh, the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way, To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessed Christmas Day.

They lit the high sea-light, and the dark began to fall.

"All hands to loose topgallant sails!" I heard the captain call.

"By the Lord, she'll never stand it," our first mate, Jackson, cried.

... "It's the one way or the other, Mr. Jackson," he replied.

She staggered to her bearings, but the sails were new and good, And the ship smelt up to windward just as though she understood.

As the winter's day was ending, in the entry of the night, We cleared the weary headland, and pa.s.sed below the light.

And they heaved a mighty breath, every soul on board but me, As they saw her nose again pointing handsome out to sea; But all that I could think of, in the darkness and the cold, Was just that I was leaving home and my folks were growing old.

_Robert Louis Stevenson._

"LAST CHRISTMAS WAS A YEAR AGO."

(THE OLD LADY SPEAKS.)