She nestled to me, and I kept her near and warm, surprised to find
The arms that held my babe so close were opened wider to her kind.
I hid her safe within my heart. “My heart” I said, “is all for you,”
But lo! She left the door ajar and all the world came flocking through.
She needed me. I learned to know the royal joy that service brings,
She was so helpless that I grew to love all little helpless things.
She trusted me, and I who ne’er had trusted, save in self, grew cold
With panic lest this precious life should know no stronger, surer hold.
She lay and smiled and in her eyes I watched my narrow world grow broad,
Within her tiny, crumpled hand I touched the mighty hand of God!
Spring in Nazareth
“THE Spring is come!” a shepherd saith;
Sing, sweet Mary,
“The Spring is come to Nazareth
And swift the Summer hurrieth.”
Sing low, the barley and the corn!
Across the field a path is set—
Sing, sweet Mary,
Green shadow in a golden net—
The tears of night have left it wet.
Sing low, the barley and the corn!
The Babe forsakes His mother’s knee,
Haste, sweet Mary—
See how He runneth merrily,
One foot upon the path hath He—
Green, green, the barley and the corn!
The mother calls with mother-fear—
Hush, sweet Mary!
Another sound is in His ear,
A sound he cannot choose but hear—
Hush, hush, the barley and the corn!