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The lovely town was white with apple-blooms,

And the great elms o'erhead

Dark shadows wove on their aerial looms,

Shot through with golden thread.

Across the meadows, by the gray old manse,

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For the one face I looked for was not there,

The one low voice was mute ;

Only an unseen presence filled the air,

And baffled my pursuit.

Now I look back, and meadow, manse, and stream

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Which at its topmost speed let fall the pen,

And left the tale half told.

Ah! who shall lift that wand of magic power,

And the lost clew regain ?

The unfinished window in Aladdin's tower

Unfinished must remain !

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Of peace on earth, good-will to men !

And thought how, as the day had come,

The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along

The unbroken song

Of peace on earth, good-will to men !

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