Joseph and Mary
Joseph:
Mary, art thou the little maid
Who plucked me flowers in Spring?
I know thee not; I feel afraid:
Thou'rt strange this evening.
A sweet and rustic girl I won
What time the woods were green;
No woman with deep eyes that shone,
And the pale brows of a Queen.
Mary: (inattentive to his words)
A stranger came with feet of flame
And told me this strange thing, —
For all I was a village maid
My son should be a King.
Joseph:
A King, dear wife? Who ever knew
Of Kings in stables born!
Mary:
Do you hear, in the dark and starlit blue
The clarion and the horn?
Joseph:
Mary, alas, lest grief and joy
Have sent thy wits astray;
But let me look on this my boy,
And take the wraps away.
Mary:
Behold the lad.
Joseph:
I dare not gaze:
Light streams from every limb.
Mary:
The winter sun has stored his rays,
And passed the fire to him.
Look Eastward, look! I hear a sound.
O Joseph, what do you see?
Joseph:
The snow lies quiet on the ground
And glistens on the tree;
The sky is bright with a star's great light,
And clearly I behold
Three Kings descending yonder hill,
Whose crowns are crowns of gold.
O Mary, what do you hear and see
With your brow toward the West?
Mary:
The snow lies glistening on the tree
And silent on Earth's breast;
And strong and tall, with lifted eyes
Seven shepherds walk this way,
And angels breaking from the skies
Dance, and sing hymns, and pray.
Joseph:
I wonder much at these bright Kings;
The shepherds I despise.
Mary:
You know not what a shepherd sings,
Nor see his shining eyes.