The conies had their hiding-place, The wily fox with stealthy tread A covert found, but Christ, the Lord, Had not a place to lay his head. The eagle had an eyrie home, The blithesome bird its quiet rest, But not the humblest spot on earth Was by the Son of God possessed. Princes and kings had palaces, With grandeur could adorn each tomb, For Him who came with love and life, They had no home, they gave no room. The hands whose touch sent thrills of joy Through nerves unstrung and palsied frame, The feet that travelled for our need, Were nailed unto the cross of shame. How dare I murmur at my lot, Or talk of sorrow, pain and loss, When Christ was in a manger laid, And died in anguish on the cross. That homeless one beheld beyond His lonely agonizing pain, A love outflowing from His heart, That all the wandering world would gain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HAPPY LIFE by MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS A CANADIAN BOAT SONG; WRITTEN ON THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE by THOMAS MOORE TO SCIENCE; SONNET by EDGAR ALLAN POE COUNTER-ATTACK by SIEGFRIED SASSOON |