Upon my knees my little baby lies And smiles back at the smile within my eyes; And when I catch his sweet, soft face to me I wonder had you greater ecstasy. I've garments fashioned with especial care Which hope alone had made for him to wear. But could long years roll back and could I go To that small manger where you lay so low There would be nothing in my baby's hoard That I could offer to an infant Lord. Perhaps no hint there would reach out to me To tell your mission, that the Christ was He; And I'd just wait on you with tenderest care, I'd stroke your face and your bright shining hair; And that small Babe, because my own's so sweet How dear His hands and tiny wrinkled feet! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A LILLIPUTIAN ODE ON THEIR MAJESTIES' ACCESSION by HENRY CAREY (1687-1743) INVOCATION [TO LOVE] by WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN THE OLD MAN AND JIM by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY LET ME FORGET by OMA CARLYLE ANDERSON THE GARLAND OF SLEEP by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER WORLDLY PLACE by MATTHEW ARNOLD |