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.