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Samuel Taylor Coleridge - A Christmas Carol
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I.
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.

II.
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.

III.
She listened to the tale divine,
And closer still the Babe she pressed:
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.

IV.
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`s story,
Didst thou ne`er love to hear of fame and glory?

V.
And is not War a youthful king,
A stately Hero clad in mail?
Beneath his footsteps laurels spring;
Him Earth`s majestic monarchs hail
Their friends, their playmate! and his bold bright eye
Compels the maiden`s love-confessing sigh.

VI.
Tell this in some more courtly scene,
To maids and youths in robes of state!
I am a woman poor and mean,
And wherefore is my soul elate.
War is a ruffian, all with guilt defiled,
That from the aged father`s tears his child!

VII.
A murderous fiend, by fiends adored,
He kills the sire and starves the son;
The husband kills, and from her board
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.

VIII.
Then wisely is my soul elate,
That strife should vanish, battle cease:
I`m poor and of 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!
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