... no more forlorn, Sith unto it a Babe is born, That in a propped, thatched stable lies, While with darkling, reverent eyes Dusky Emperors, coifed in gold, Kneel mid the rushy mire, and hold Caskets of rubies, urns of myrrh, Whose fumes enwrap the thurifer And coil toward the high dim rafters Where, with lutes and warbling laughters, Clustered cherubs of rainbow feather, Fanning the fragrant air together, Flit in jubilant holy glee, And make heavenly minstrelsy To the Child their Sun, whose glow Bathes them His cloudlets from below.... Long shall ... — Georgian Poetry 1916-17 - Edited by Sir Edward Howard Marsh • Various