1 Through snowy streets one Christmas Eve,
In winter bleak and wild,
Wandered, with bare and aching feet,
A little stranger child.
2 How brightly through each window pane
Shone gay and gleaming rooms
Where stood the sparkling lamp lit trees,
Laden with Christmas blooms!
3 Alas! no comfort could they bring
This little lonely heart;
Fast fell his tears to see the joy
In which he had no part.
4 “Each child has for his own today
A little tree and light;
I only have no gift at all,
Out in the freezing night.
5 “In my dear home so far away
One also burned for me:
My brothers, sisters round its gleam
Shouted and danced for glee.
6 “Now all the joy is fled away,
Broken the happy band.
And I, forgotten and alone,
In this cold, foreign land.
7 “Will no kind mother let me in,
For sake of charity?
Is there not, by so many hearths,
One little nook for me?
8 "I ask not, from your laden trees,
One single gift or toy
Only a place to sit apart.
And see the children’s joy."
9 Timid he knocked at gate and door,
But all were deaf within:
None came, no gentle voice or hand,
To bid him welcome in.
10 The parents gave the Christmas gifts,
And on their children smiled:
Each thought of his own little ones;
None of the lonely child.
11 "O holy, gracious Christ," he cried,
"No parent have I here;
No help is left, save only Thee,
O Jesus blest and dear!"
12 He rubbed his little frost-chilled hand,
And, stiff with cold and pain,
Lingered to watch the casements’ glow,
Crouched in a narrow lane.
13 God hears the prayer that man denies—
For see! a lovely sight,
A glory clearer than the sun
Made darkest alley bright.
14 While, gliding soft in snow-white robe,
There came another child:
Like music from the heav’nly land
Sounded His accents mild—
15 "I am the blessèd Christ," He said,
“Once born a child like thee:
Poor little lone forsaken one,
Thou art most dear to Me.
16 "A tree more lovely far than all
Which thou hast seen tonight,
I will Myself uprear for thee
Under the sky’s clear height."
17 Thus graciously the Christ Child spoke
And waved to Heav’n His hand,
When lo! more fair than earth’s best blooms
Behold: the tree did stand!
18 How full of clustered stars it gleamed.
With branches wide outspread,
While wondrous radiance, far and near,
Its Heav’n-lit tapers shed!
19 The child looked up with deep wide eyes;
Strange awe his breast did fill:
Then, gazing on the heav’nly sight,
The little heart grew still.
20 It seemed to him a lovely dream;
Till, bending from the tree,
Fair white winged angels reached their hands
And drew him lovingly:
21 And, from earth’s narrow, darksome ways,
By sin and woe defiled,
The Savior’s gracious arms once more
Took up a little child.
22 He lay, a stiff and lifeless form.
In morning grey and chill:
And they who found him, wondering saw
His pale lips smiling still.
23 Thank God! no more in cold and pain
The little wanderer sighs;
And soon forgotten is earth’s grief
In peaceful paradise!
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