IN swaddling clothes she wrapped the naked child,
Men proffered incense, precious gifts and myrrh;
The shepherds gazed, yet Jesus did not stir,
Enough the camel bells, the south wind mild.
Bathed all in starlight sleeps the undefiled,
Announced by portent and the dazzling whir
Of angel wings to be the messenger
And sent of God. His kneeling mother smiled,
And in her heart were joy and anguish blent,
For who that instant should discern the whole!
She rose to give him suck; again she kneeled,
Devoutly pondering what those strange words meant,
Yea and a sword shall pierce through thine own soul,
That thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.