My counterpane is soft as silk, My blankets white as creamy milk. The hay was soft to Him, I know, Our little Lord of long ago. Above the roofs the pigeons fly In silver wheels across the sky. The stable-doves they cooed to them, Mary and Christ in Bethlehem. Bright shines the sun across the drifts, And bright upon my Christmas gifts. They brought Him incense, myrrh, and gold, Our little Lord who lived of old. O, soft and clear our mother sings Of Christmas joys and Christmas things. God's holy angels sang to them, Mary and Christ in Bethlehem. Our hearts they hold all Christmas dear, And earth seems sweet and heaven seems near, O, heaven was in His sight, I know, That little Child of long ago. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK: FIT 3. THE BAKER'S TALE by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON THE WALLS DO NOT FALL: 4 by HILDA DOOLITTLE A DAY: AN EPISTLE TO JOHN WILKES, OF AYLESBURY, ESQ. by JOHN ARMSTRONG CYNTHIA ON HORSEBACK by PHILIP AYRES THE WHITE ROAD UP ATHIRT THE HILL by WILLIAM BARNES THE YOUNG THAT DIED IN BEAUTY by WILLIAM BARNES STANZAS TO AN AFFECTIONATE AND PIOUS PARENT, ON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD by BERNARD BARTON |