THE BABE OF BETHLEHEM

O cruel manger, how bleak, how bleak
For the limbs of the Babe, my God,
Soft little limbs on the cold, cold straw;
Weep, O eyes, for thy God!

Bitter ye winds in the frosty night
Upon the Babe, my God,
Piercing the torn and broken thatch;
Lament, O heart, for thy God!

Bare is the floor, how bare, how bare
For the Babe's sweet mother, my God;

Only a stable for mother and Babe;
How cruel thy world, my God!

Cast out, cast out, by his brother men,
Unknown the Babe, my God;

The ox and ass are there;

Soften, O heart, for thy God!

Dear little arms and sweet little hands,

That stretch for thy mother, my God; Soft baby eyes to the mother's eyes;

Melt, O heart, for thy God.

Waxen touches on mother's heart,
Fingers of the Babe, my God;
Dear baby lips to her virgin breast,
The virgin mother of God.

The shepherds have come from the hills to adore
The Babe in the manger, my God;
Mary and Joseph welcome them, there:
Worship, O soul, thy God!

But I alone may not come near

The Babe in the manger, my God;
Weep for thy sins, O heart, and plead
With Mary, the mother of God.

May I not come, oh, just to the door,
To see the Babe, my God?
There will I stop, and kneel and adore,
And weep for my sins, O God!

But Mary smiles, and rising up,

In her arms the Babe, my God,

She comes to the door and bends her down,
With the Babe in her arms, my God!

Her sinless arms in my sinful arms
Places the Babe, my God;

"He has come to take thy sins away;"
Break, O heart, for thy God!

- CONDÉ BENOIST PALLEN.

AT EASTER

In April, when the ash-trees bloom,
The doves at Easter coo and sing
Amid the golden poplar-cups,

Brimmed with the melodies of Spring:
The lilac's purple thuribles

Pour fragrant odors, born of pain: Sweet nuns the glad, white roses bow 'Neath Alleluias of the rain,

While serving-Wind adore and croon,
And God keeps watch thro' afternoon.

At Easter slow the white clouds go,

Stoled priests down the wide aisles of heaven; In majesty exposed, the sun

Flames on from Land to none at even;

The moon, like a white Carmelite,

Removed a-west, in awe adores;

In love heaven's boundless depth of blue
Around his tabernacle pours,

While the great stars, on heights concealed,

Adore His countenance revealed.