A stranger, to His own He came; and one alone, Who knew not sin, His lowliness believed, And in her soul conceived To let Him in. He naked was, and she Of her humanity A garment wove. He hungered; and she gave, What most His heart did crave, A Mother's love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FIRST FIG by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY SARGENT'S PORTRAIT OF EDWIN BOOTH AT THE PLAYERS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH BETWEEN SLEEP AND WAKING by MATHILDE BLIND BEAUTIFUL HANDS by INA LADD BROWN THIRD EPISTLE TO JOHN LAPRAIK by ROBERT BURNS TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. EASTER DAY ON MT. MOUNIER by EDWARD CARPENTER |