Part 7 (2/2)

MANY VOICES, (heard singing in a cottage)

There is a softness in the night A wonder in that splendid star That fills us with delight, Poor foolish working people that we are, And only fit to keep A little garden or a dozen sheep.

Old broken women at the fire Have many ancient tales they sing, How the whole world's desire Should blossom here, and how a child should bring New glory to his race Though born in so contemptible a place.

Let all come in, if any brother go In shame or hunger, cold or fear, Through all this waste of snow.

To night the Star, the Rose, the Song are near, And still inside the door Is full provision for another score.

(The Beggar runs to them)

THE STRANGER (to the Blind Man)

Do you not mean to share these joys?

THE BLIND MAN

Aweary of this earthly noise I pace my silent way.

Come you and help me tie this rope: I would not lose my only hope.

Already clear the birds I hear, Already breaks the day.

STRANGER

O foolish and most blind old man, Where are those other two?

THE BLIND MAN

Why, one is wed and t'other fed: Small thanks they gave to you.

STRANGER

To me no thanks are due.

Yet since I have some little power Bequeathed me at this holy hour, I tell you, friend, that G.o.d shall grant This night to you your dearest want.

THE BLIND MAN

Why this sweet odour? Why this flame?

I am afraid. What is your name?

THE STRANGER

Ask your desire, for this great night Is pa.s.sing.

THE BLIND MAN

Sir, I ask my sight.

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