THE mild-eyed Oxen and the gentle Ass, By manger or in pastures that they graze, Lift their slow heads to watch us where we pass, A reminiscent wonder in their gaze. Their low humility is like a crown, A grave distinction they have come to wear,— Their look gone past us—to a little Town, And a white miracle that happened there. An old, old vision haunts those quiet eyes, Where proud remembrance drifts to them again, Of Something that has made them humbly wise, —These burden-bearers for the race of men— And lightens every load they lift or pull, Something that chanced because the Inn was full. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A BLUEBELL by EMILY JANE BRONTE A BIRTHDAY by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI DEATH AT DAYBREAK by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH A SPIRITUAL AND WELL-ORDERED MIND by HENRY ALFORD ON READING OF THE DEATH OF THOMAS WOLFE by MARION LOUISE BLISS LEFT ON THE BATTLE-FIELD by SARAH TITTLE BOLTON THE BLACK FOX OF SALMON RIVER by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |