Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Day of the Lord, as all our days should be!

Day of the Lord, as all our days should be!

The architect
Built his great heart into these sculptured stones,
And with him toiled his children, and read more

The architect
Built his great heart into these sculptured stones,
And with him toiled his children, and their lives
Were builded, with his own, into the walls,
As offerings unto God.

O child! O new-born denizen
Of life's great city! on thy head
The glory of morn is read more

O child! O new-born denizen
Of life's great city! on thy head
The glory of morn is shed,
Like a celestial benison!
Here at the portal thou dost stand,
And with thy little hand
Thou openest the mysterious gate
Into the future's undiscovered land.

In the elder days of Art,
Builders wrought with greatest care
Each minute and unseen part;
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In the elder days of Art,
Builders wrought with greatest care
Each minute and unseen part;
For the gods see everywhere.

Hail to the King of Bethlehem,
Who weareth in his diadem
The yellow crocus for the gem
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Hail to the King of Bethlehem,
Who weareth in his diadem
The yellow crocus for the gem
Of his authority!