 Christmas Tide by E. Pauline Johnson, read for Libervox.org by Austin Heath. I may not go tonight to Bethlehem, nor follow star-directed ways, nor tread the paths wherein the shepherds walked that led to Christ and peace and God's goodwill to men. I may not hear the Herald Angels' song peal through the oriental skies, nor see the wonder of that heavenly company announce the King the world had waited long. The manger-throne I may not kneel before, or see how man to God is reconciled through pure St. Mary's pure, holier child. The human Christ these eyes may not adore. I may not carry frankincense and myrrh with adoration to the holy one, nor gold have I to give the perfect son to be with those wise kings a worshipper. Not mine, the joy that heaven sent to them, for ages since time swung and locked his gates. But I may kneel without. The star still waits to guide me on to holy Bethlehem. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Christmas Tide by E. Pauline Johnson Read for LibriVox.org by Bruce Gachok I may not go to night to Bethlehem, nor follow star-directed ways, nor tread the paths wherein the shepherds walked that led to Christ and peace and God's goodwill to men. I may not hear the herald angel's song, peal through the oriental skies, nor see the wonder of that heavenly company announce the king the world had waited long, the manger-throne I may not kneel before, or see how man to God is reconciled through pure St. Mary's pure, holier child. The human Christ these eyes may not adore. I may not carry frankincense and myrrh, with adoration to the holy one, nor gold have I to give the perfect son to be with those wise kings a worshipper. Not mine, the joy that heaven sent to them, for ages since time swung and locked his gates. But I may kneel without, the star still waits to guide me on to holy Bethlehem. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Christmas Tide by E. Pauline Johnson Read for LibriVox.org by Ben I may not go tonight to Bethlehem, nor follow star-directed ways, nor tread the paths wherein the shepherds walked that led to Christ and peace and God's goodwill to men. I may not hear the herald angel's song, peal through the oriental skies, nor see the wonder of that heavenly company announce the king the world had waited long, the manger-throne I may not kneel before, or see how man to God is reconciled. Through pure saint Mary's pure holier child, the human Christ these eyes may not adore. I may not carry frankincense and myrrh, with adoration to the holy one, nor gold have I to give the perfect son to be with those wise kings a worshipper. Not mine, the joy that heaven sent to them, for ages since time swung and locked his gates. But I may kneel without, the star still waits to guide me on to holy Bethlehem. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Christmas Tide by E. Pauline Johnson Read for LibriVox.org by Caitlin Buckley I may not go tonight to Bethlehem, nor follow star-directed ways, nor tread the paths where in the shepherds walked, that led to Christ and peace and God's goodwill to men. I may not hear the herald angel's song peal through the oriental skies, nor see the wonder of that heavenly company announce the king the world had waited long. The manger-throne I may not kneel before, or see how man to God is reconciled. Through pure saint Mary's pure holier child, the human Christ these eyes may not adore. I may not carry frankincense and myrrh with adoration to the Holy One, nor gold have I to give the perfect Son to be with those wise kings a worshipper. Not mine, the joy that heaven sent to them, for ages since time swung and locked his gates. But I may kneel without, the star still waits to guide me on to holy Bethlehem. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Christmas Tide by E. Pauline Johnson Read for LibreVox.org by Chad Horner from Balli Clare in County Hunter, Northern Ireland, sentiated in the north-east of the island of Ireland. I may not go to night to Bethlehem, nor follow star-directed ways, nor tread the paths where in the shepherds walked, that led to Christ and peace and God's goodwill to men. I may not hear the herald angel's song peal through the oriental skies, nor see the wonder of that heavenly company Announce the king, the world, at wait-at-long. The manger throum, I may not kneel before, or see how mantah God is reconciled, through pure, Saint Mary's pureer, Balli or child. The human Christ, these eyes may not adore. I may not carry frankincense in her with adoration to the Holy One, nor gold have I to give the perfected Son to be with those wise kings a worshipper. Not mine, the joy that heaven sent to them, for ages since time swung undocked his gates, but I may kneel without. The star still waits to guide me home to Holy Bethlehem. And the form this recording is in the public domain. Christmas Tide by E. Pauline Johnson, read for Librox.org by Chloe Mer. I may not go to night to Bethlehem, nor follow star-directed ways, nor tread the paths wherein the shepherds walked that led to Christ and peace and God's good will to men. I may not hear the Herald Angels song peel through the oriental skies nor see. The wonder of that heavenly company announced the king, the world had waited long. The manger throum, I may not kneel before or see how man to God is reconciled through pure St. Mary's pure, holier child. The human Christ these eyes may not adore. I may not carry frankincense and myrrh with adoration to the Holy One, nor gold have I to give the perfect Son to be with those wise kings a worshipper. Not mine, the joy that heaven sent to them, for ages since time swung and locked his gates, but I may kneel without the star still waits to guide me on to holy Bethlehem. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Christmas Tide by E. Pauline Johnson, read for Librox.org by Douglas Fajardo. I may not go to night to Bethlehem, nor follow star-directed ways, nor tread the paths wherein the shepherds walked that led to Christ and peace and God's good will to men. I may not hear the herald angel's song peal through the oriental skies, nor see the wonder of that heavenly company announced the king, the world had waited long. The manger throum, I may not kneel before or see how man to God is reconciled through pure St. Mary's purer, holier child. The human Christ these eyes may not adore. I may not carry frankincense and myrrh with adoration to the Holy One, nor gold have I to give the perfect Son to be with those wise kings a worshipper. Not mine, the joy that heaven sent to them, for ages since time swung and locked his gates. But I may kneel without, the star still awaits, to guide me on to holy Bethlehem. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Christmas Tide by E. Pauline Johnson. Read for LibriVox.org by David Lawrence. I may not go to night to Bethlehem, nor follow star-directed ways, nor tread the paths wherein the shepherds walked that led to Christ and peace and God's good will to men. I may not hear the herald angel's song peal through the oriental skies, nor see the wonder of that heavenly company. Announce the king the world had waited long. The manger throne I may not kneel before, or see how man to God is reconciled. Through pure St. Mary's pure, holier child. The human Christ these eyes may not adore. I may not carry frankincense and myrrh with adoration to the Holy One, nor gold have I to give the perfect Son to be with those wise kings a worshipper. Not mine the joy that heaven sent to them, for ages since time swung and locked his gates. But I may kneel without, the star still waits to guide me on to holy Bethlehem. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Christmas Tide by E. Pauline Johnson Read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist I may not go to night to Bethlehem, nor follow star-directed ways, nor tread the paths wherein the shepherds walked that led to Christ and peace and God's good will to men. I may not hear the herald angel's song peal through the oriental skies, nor see the wonder of that heavenly company announce the king the world had waited long. The manger throne I may not kneel before, or see how man to God is reconciled. Through pure St. Mary's pure, holier child. The human Christ these eyes may not adore. I may not carry frankincense and myrrh with adoration to the holy one, nor gold have I to give the perfect Son, to be with those wise kings a worshipper. Not mine the joy that heaven sent to them, for ages since time swung and locked his gates. But I may kneel without. The star still waits to guide me on to holy Bethlehem. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Christmas Dived by E. Pauline Johnson Read for LibriVox.org by Florence Short I may not go to night to Bethlehem, nor follow star-directed ways, nor tread the paths wherein the shepherds walked that led to Christ and peace, and God's goodwill to men. I may not hear the herald angel's song peal through the oriental skies, nor see the wonder of that heavenly company announce the king the world had waited long. The manger throne I may not kneel before, or see how man to God is reconciled. Through pure Saint Mary's pure, holier child, the human Christ these eyes may not adore. I may not carry frankincense and myrrh with adoration to the holy one, nor gold have I to give the perfect Son, to be with those wise kings a worshipper. Not mine the joy that heaven sent to them, for ages since time swung and locked his gates, but I may kneel without. The star still waits to guide me on to holy Bethlehem. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Christmas Tide by E. Pauline Johnson Read for LibriVox.org by Garth Burton I may not go to night to Bethlehem, nor follow star-directed ways, nor tread the paths wherein the shepherds walked that led to Christ, and peace, and God's good will to men. I may not hear the Herald Angels song peal through the oriental skies, nor see the wonder of that heavenly company announce the king the world had waited long. The manger throne I may not kneel before, or see how man to God is reconciled through pure St. Mary's pure holy a child. The human Christ these eyes may not adore. I may not carry frankincense and myrrh with adoration to the holy one, nor gold have I to give the perfect Son, to be with those wise kings a worshipper. Not mine the joy that heaven sent to them, for ages since time swung and locked his gates. But I may kneel without. The star still waits to guide me on to holy Bethlehem. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Christmas Tide by E. Pauline Johnson Read for LibriVox.org by Graham Scott Cheltenham, England. GrahamScottAudio.com I may not go to night to Bethlehem, nor follow star-directed ways, nor tread the paths wherein the shepherds walked that led to Christ, and peace, and God's good will to men. I may not hear the Herald Angels song peal through the oriental skies, nor see the wonder of that heavenly company announce the king the world had waited long. The manger throne I may not kneel before, or see how man to God is reconciled through pure St. Mary's pure holy a child. The human Christ these eyes may not adore. I may not carry frankincense and myrrh with adoration to the holy one, nor gold have I to give the perfect Son to be with those wise kings a worshipper. Not mind the joy that heaven sent to them, for ages since time swung and locked his gates, but I may kneel without. The star still waits to guide me on to holy Bethlehem. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Christmas Tide by E. Pauline Johnson Read for LibriVox.org by Leanne Howlett I may not go to night to Bethlehem, nor follow star-directed ways, nor tread the paths wherein the shepherds walked that led to Christ, and peace, and God's good will to men. I may not hear the herald angel's song, peel through the oriental skies, nor see the wonder of that heavenly company, announce the king the world had waited long. The manger throne I may not kneel before, or see how man to God is reconciled through pure St. Mary's pure holy a child. The human Christ these eyes may not adore. I may not carry frankincense and myrrh with adoration to the holy one, nor gold have I to give the perfect son to be with those wise kings a worshipper. Not mind the joy that heaven sent to them, for ages since time swung and locked his gates, but I may kneel without. The star still waits to guide me on to holy Bethlehem. End of poem This recording is in the public domain. Christmas Tide by E. Pauline Johnson Read for LibriVox.org by Phil Schemf I may not go to night to Bethlehem, nor follow star-directed ways, nor tread the paths wherein the shepherds walked that led to Christ, and peace, and God's good will to men. I may not hear the herald angel's song, peel through the oriental skies, nor see the wonder of that heavenly company announce the king the world had waited long. The manger throne I may not kneel before, or see how man to God is reconciled. Through pure St. Mary's pure holier child, the human Christ these eyes may not adore. I may not carry frankincense and myrrh with adoration to the holy one, nor gold have I to give the perfect Son, to be with those wise kings a worshipper, not mind the joy that heaven sent to them, for ages since time swung and locked his gates, but I may kneel without. The star still waits to guide me on to holy Bethlehem. End of poem This recording is in the public domain. Christmas Tide by E. Pauline Johnson Read for LibriVox.org by Rumpold Poetry I may not go to night to Bethlehem, nor follow star-directed ways, nor tread the paths wherein the shepherds walked that led to Christ, and peace, and God's good will to men. I may not hear the herald angel's song, peel through the oriental skies, nor see the wonder of that heavenly company announce the king the world had waited long. The manger throne I may not kneel before, or see how man to God is reconciled through pure St. Mary's pure, holier child. The human Christ these eyes may not adore. I may not carry frankincense and myrrh with adoration to the holy one, nor gold have I to give the perfect Son to be with those wise kings a worshipper. Not mine, the joy that heaven sent to them, for ages since time swung and locked his gates, but I may kneel without. The star still waits to guide me on to holy Bethlehem. End of poem This recording is in the public domain.