Old, Old Story

Sarabande Sonnet, for the Poetry Scratch Pad

I know you've heard this tale before:
How we poor herdsmen watched our sheep
In sweet Judea's hills, of yore;

How in the sky one night we saw
The stars grow brighter than they should
And in celestial knots withdraw
Till where stars were, bright angels stood.

And then a grinning star came down.
"Go guard," he said, "your young Lord's sleep!
Messiah's born in David's town!"

But what they do not tell is this:
That while they praised the newborn Boy,
And while of glory, peace and bliss
The angels sang, they danced for joy!