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As the resident artist at EcoHealth, my verse these days finds inspiration in the specter of future pandemics; for my dissertation at Amerika-Institut of LMU München, where I edit a weekly circular of U.S. poetry, I'm anatomizing the prosody of E. A. Robinson's sonnets—I also teach English and tutor composition.

20141223

Christmas Carol

by Sara Teasdale


The kings they came from out the south, 
   All dressed in ermine fine; 
They bore Him gold and chrysoprase, 
   And gifts of precious wine.

The shepherds came from out the north, 
   Their coats were brown and old; 
They brought Him little new-born lambs— 
   They had not any gold.

The wise men came from out the east, 
   And they were wrapped in white; 
The star that led them all the way 
   Did glorify the night.

The angels came from heaven high, 
   And they were clad with wings; 
And lo, they brought a joyful song 
   The host of heaven sings.

The kings they knocked upon the door, 
   The wise men entered in, 
The shepherds followed after them 
   To hear the song begin.

The angels sang through all the night 
   Until the rising sun, 
But little Jesus fell asleep 
   Before the song was done.

Note:  A recitation can be heard here.

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