“ He neither shall be clothed
In purple nor in pall,
But in the fair, white linen
That usen babies all.”
As Joseph was a-waukin',
Thus did the angel sing,
And Mary's son at midnight
Was born to be our King.
Then be you glad, good people,
At this time of the year;
And light you up your candles,
For His star it shineth clear.
Unknown
Say, did his sisters wonder what could
Joseph see In a mild, silent little Maid like thee? And was it awful in that narrow house, With God for Babe and Spouse? Nay, like thy simple, female sort, each
Apt to find Him in Husband and in
Son,
Nothing to thee came strange in this.
Thy wonder was but wondrous bliss :
Wondrous, for, though
True Virgin lives not but does know,
(Howbeit none ever yet confess'd)
That God lies really in her breast,
Of thine He made His special nest
And so
All mothers worship little feet,
And kiss the very ground they've trod;
But, ah, thy little Baby sweet
Who was indeed thy God!
Coventry Patmore
A STRANGER, to His own
He came;
and one alone,
Who knew not sin,
His lowliness believed,
And in her soul conceived
To let Him in.
He naked was, and she
Of her humanity
A garment wove :
He hungered; and she gave,
What most His heart did crave,
A Mother's love.
John Banister Tabb
A CHRISTMAS CAROL
THERE 's a song in the air !
There's a star in the sky!
There's a mother's deep prayer
And a baby's low cry!
And the star rains its fire while the Beauti-
ful sing, For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a king.
There's a tumult of joy
O'er the wonderful birth,
For the virgin's sweet boy
Is the Lord of the earth.
Ay! the star rains its fire and the Beautiful
sing, For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a king.
In the light of that star
Lie the ages impearled ;
And that song from afar
Has swept over the world.
Every hearth is aflame, and the Beautiful sing
In the homes of the nations that Jesus is
King.
We rejoice in the light,
And we echo the song
That comes down through the night
From the heavenly throng.
Ay! we shout to the lovely evangel they bring, And we greet in his cradle our Saviour and King
Josiah Gilbert Holland
Thou that once, on mother's knee,
Wast a little one like
me,
When I wake or go to bed
Lay thy hands about my head;
Let me feel thee very near,
Jesus Christ, our Saviour dear.
Be beside me in the light,
Close by me through all the night;
Make me gentle, kind, and true,
Do what mother bids me do;
Help and cheer me when I fret,
And forgive when I forget.
Once wast thou in cradle laid,
Baby bright in manger-shade,
With the oxen and the cows,
And the lambs outside the house:
Now thou art above the sky:
Canst thou hear a baby cry?
Thou art nearer when we pray,
Since thou art so far away;
Thou my little hymn wilt hear,
Jesus Christ, our Saviour dear,
Thou that once, on mother's knee,
Wast a little one like me.
Francis Turner Palgrave
He came all so still
Where His mother was,
As dew in April
That falleth on the grass.
He came all so still
Where His mother lay,
As dew in April
That falleth on the spray.
He came all so still
To His mother's bower,
As dew in April
That falleth on the flower.
Mother and maiden
Was never none but she !
Well might such a lady
God's mother be.
Unknown
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