The first star won’t be seen this night. The clouds Obscure this fallen world, and seem to hide The pilgrim paths to Bethlehem from all Who seek their Saviour in the colding night
But yet the first star will be seen in truth, In all the faces around the happy table Gathered from field and forest, east and west, Breaking the Advent fast with Christmas joy
And with the liturgies Our Lord is born Beneath the star that will forever shine