Star of my heart, I follow from afar. 
Sweet Love on high, lead on where shepherds are, 
Where Time is not, and only dreamers are. 
Star from of old, the Magi-Kings are dead 
And a foolish Saxon seeks the manger-bed. 
O lead me to Jehovah's child 
Across this dreamland lone and wild, 
Then will I speak this prayer unsaid, 
And kiss his little haloed head ? 
"My star and I, we love thee, little child." 

Except the Christ be born again to-night 
In dreams of all men, saints and sons of shame, 
The world will never see his kingdom bright. 
Stars of all hearts, lead onward thro' the night 
Past death-black deserts, doubts without a name, 
Past hills of pain and mountains of new sin 
To that far sky where mystic births begin, 
Where dreaming ears the angel-song shall win. 
Our Christmas shall be rare at dawning there, 
And each shall find his brother fair, 
Like a little child within: 
All hearts of the earth shall find new birth 
And wake, no more to sin.