that were called Breaths of Hope and that The 

 we now call Stars of Bethlehem were so hushed Children 

 in quiet that the shadows of moths lay on anc j ^ 

 them like the dark motionless violet in the Clan of 

 hearts of pansies. In the long swards of Peace, 

 tender grass the multitude of the daisies were 

 white as milk faintly stained with flusht dews 

 fallen from roses. On the meadows of white 

 poppies were long shadows blue as the blue 

 lagoons of the sky among drifting snow-white 

 moors of cloud. Three white aspens on the 

 pastures were in a still sleep : their tremulous 

 leaves made no rustle, though there was a 

 soundless wavering fall of little dusky shadows, 

 as in the dark water of a pool where birches 

 lean in the yellow hour of the frostfire. Upon 

 the pastures were ewes and lambs sleeping, 

 and yearling kids opened and closed their onyx 

 eyes among the garths of white clover. 



It was the Sabbath, and Jesus walked alone. 

 When He came to a little rise in the grass He 

 turned and looked back at the house where His 

 parents dwelled. Joseph sat on a bench, with 

 bent shoulders, and was dreaming with fixt 

 gaze into the west, as seamen stare across the 

 interminable wave at the pale green horizons 

 that are like the grassy shores of home. Mary 

 was standing, dressed in long white raiment, 

 white as a lily, with her right hand shading 

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