A FOURTEENTH-CENTURY CAROL
| When God came down
on Earth to dwell, Great cold befell: Yet Mary on the road hath seen A fig-tree green. Said Joseph: "O Mary, let the fruit hang; For thirty good mile we have still to gang, Lest we be late!" When Mary unto a village door At last did win, She thus bespake the cottager: "Sir, take us in! Since for this young Child's tender sake A pitying heart must surely ache, The night's so cold." "You're welcome all to my ox-stall!" The good man cried. But in the middle of the night He rose and sighed: "Where are ye now, poor hapless ones? That ye're not frozen to the bones, I marvel much." Then back into his house he runs From forth the byre— "Rouse up, rouse up, my dearest wife, And light a fire, As fine as ever sent up smoke, Whereat these poor and perishing folk May comfort them." Mary with joy into the house The Babe has brought, Joseph her just and faithful spouse, His wallet sought. Therefrom he took a kettle small; [127] Some snow the Child therein let fall, And lo 'tis flour! Thereto the Babe has added ice; 'Tis sugar straight! Now water drops, and, in a trice, 'Tis milk most sweet! The kettle, fast as you could look, They hung upon the kitchen hook A meal to cook. The godly Joseph carved a spoon From out a brand; To ivory it changed full soon And adamant. When Mary gave the Babe the food, He became Jesus, Son of God. Before their eyes. |