Mary, full of grace thou art, With thy God beneath thy heart. Months must come e'er years can go, Bringing agony and woe. Now is thine, for God is laid In thy flesh and of it made; The Sinless One becomes thy Child! Maybe God's Own angels smiled Beholding thee, pure Mother-Maid, Receive their Lord so unafraid. Could they know that, unto thee, He will just thy Baby be? The Baby needing all thy care, Happy only with thee there! When God lies within thine arms, What will still thy wild alarms? Listening to His Baby-talk, Wishing He need never walk, Dream, dear Mother, of thy joy While Christ Jesus is a Boy; Close thy heart against the years, One long sacrifice of tears, When thy Baby, still unborn, Will be crucified and torn! And, at the end, when He lies dead, Pillow on thy breast His head; Live again in memory These months when God is part of thee! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LATTER DAY by THOMAS HASTINGS VERSES TO MR. C by ALEXANDER POPE FLAMMONDE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON YOUTH, DAY, OLD AGE AND NIGHT by WALT WHITMAN ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS: PART 3: 34. MUTABILITY by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH CRADLE SONG by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH BETTY TO HERSELF by EDWARD W. BANNARD THE COMBAT, BETWEENE CONSCIENCE AND COVETOUSNESSE by RICHARD BARNFIELD |