How the Beasts Keep Christmas

At midnight’s stroke,
in barn, in stall,
Kneel all
The dumb folk.

Meekly bow
In reverence, then,
The silly hen,
The horned cow,

For a breath’s space.
An ass and ox
Makes, each, his box
A kneeling place.

Even the dark
Forest peoples
Hear the steeple’s
“Hark! Hark!”

And glory wheels
Through den and lair.
Beside the hare,
Fox kneels,

Till all on earth
Of fur or feather
Praise together
Christ’s birth.

The when or why
Can none recall.
Yet kneel all.
And kneel I.