Poetry Archives

“It’s queer,” she said; “I see the light
  As plain as I beheld it then,
All silver-like and calm and bright—
  We’ve not had stars like that again!

“And she was such a gentle thing
  To birth a baby in the cold.
The barn was dark and frightening—
  This new one’s better than the old.

“I mind my eyes were full of tears,
  For I was young, and quick distressed,
But she was less than me in years
  That held a son against her breast.

“I never saw a sweeter child—
  The little one, the darling one!—
I mind I told her, when he smiled
  You’d know he was his mother’s son.

“It’s queer that I should see them so—
  The time they came to Bethlehem
Was more than thirty years ago;
  I’ve prayed that all is well with them.”