And from a lowly dwelling, On household cares intent, A woman gazed upon them, In mute bewilderment.
“O come with us!” cried Melchior, And ardent Balthazar, “We go to find the Christ-child, Led by yon blazing star!
Thou knowest how the prophets His coming long foretold; We go to kneel before Him With gifts of myrrh and gold.”
But she, delaying, answered, “My lords, your words are good, And I your pious mission Have gladly understood,
Yet I, ere I can join you, Have many things to do: I must set my house in order, Must spin and bake and brew.
Go ye to find Messiah! And when my work is done I will your footsteps follow, Mayhap ere set of sun.”
Across the shining desert The slow train passed from sight; She set her house in order, She bleached her linen white.
With busy hands she labored Till all at last was done— But thrice the moon had risen, And thrice the lordly sun!
Then bound she on her sandals, Her pilgrim staff she took; With bread of wheat and barley, And water from the brook;
And forth she went to find Him— The babe Emmanuel, Who should be born in Bethlehem By David’s sacred well.