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...MOTHER AND POET; TURIN, AFTER THE NEWS FROM GAETA, 1861 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING SECOND BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 3 by GAIUS VALERIUS CATULLUS STANZAS COMPOSED AT CARNAC by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE STALLION OF NIGHT by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE MOABITESS by PHILLIPS BROOKS |