When first her Christmas watch to keep Came down the silent angel, Sleep, With snowy sandals shod, Beholding what His mother's hands Had wrought, with softer swaddling-bands She swathed the Son of God. Then, skilled in mysteries of night, With tender visions of delight She wreathed His resting place, Till wakened by a warmer glow Than heaven itself had yet to show, He saw His mother's face. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 5. THE INQUIRY by THOMAS HARDY SUMTER [APRIL 12, 1861] by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN TO A PORTRAIT by ARTHUR WILLIAM SYMONS THE VOYAGE; TO MAXIME DU CAMP by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE ANNUNCIATIO B.V. by JOSEPH BEAUMONT CORONATION ODE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT AMBITION AND GLORY by EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER-LYTTON |