The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap, His hair was like a light. (O weary, weary were the world, But here is all aright.) The Christ-child lay on Mary's breast, His hair was like a star. (O stern and cunning are the kings, But here the true hearts are.) The Christ-child lay on Mary's heart, His hair was like a fire. (O weary, weary is the world, But here the world's desire.) The Christ-child stood at Mary's knee, His hair was like a crown. And all the flowers looked up at Him, And all the stars looked down. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON LADY POLTAGRUE: A PUBLIC PERIL by HILAIRE BELLOC ENVOYS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE CRESCENT MOON by AMY LOWELL HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 5 by EZRA POUND THE GAME OF CHESS by EZRA POUND CALIFORNIA CITY LANDSCAPE by CARL SANDBURG |