Rough shepherds came to love and greet,
There knelt three kings at Mary's feet.
Ah! draw thee nigh the holy place--
He sleepeth well in her embrace,
The little Saviour of thy race--
Then raise thine eyes to Mary's face.
But wilt thou come in years to be?
She held Him dead across her knee.
Stretch Him aloft on planks of wood;
Offer Him gall for tears and blood.
Blazon thy hatred far and near:
Lift up the hammer and the spear.
Red thorns about his head were wound--
There lay three nails upon the ground.
Yea I Heed the Lover of thy race--
He lieth dead in her embrace.
Ah! scourge thy soul with its disgrace:
Then raise thine eyes to Mary's face.
_TO CHOOSE_
Thou canst choose the eastern Circle for thy part,
And within its sacred precincts thou shalt rest;
Thou shalt fold pale, slender hands upon thy breast,
Thou shalt fasten silent eyes upon thy heart.
If there steal within the languor of thine ark
The thunder of the waters of the earth,
The human, simple cries of pain and mirth,
The wails of little children in the dark,
Thou shalt contemplate thy Circle's radiant gleam,
Thou shalt gather self and God more closely still:
Let the Piteous and the Foolish moan at will,
So thou shelter in the sweetness of thy dream.
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