A Christmas Song . Come, let us sing ! Sing the great Warrior’s birth, Who fought and fell To ransom Sons of Earth From Powers of Hell ! Sing for the King ! Come, Robin, join the Choir ! Pipe from the naked bough, with heart o’ fire, Thy note of jubilee ; For man, and bird, and beast Must keep the feast Of Him whose loaf hath many a crumb for thee ! Sing, happy Mothers, ye who know Somewhat of Mary’s joy without her woe ; And as ye lull your little ones to rest, Bethink ye of the Cradle in the Stall, And sing a welcome to the Heir of all, Who wept a Babe upon a woman’s breast. Sing, Shepherds, as ye keep Cold vigils in the fold, And while ye tend the bleating sheep Sing, till the starlit plain Re-echo to the Strain Which Angels sang to comfort men of old. And O ye Sages wise ! Ye men of merchandize ! Leave ye the market place for one glad day— Fling down the burden, be it cross or crown, As the song soars, down with Earth’s barriers, down ! Come, let us pray ! Charlotte Bain .