Little Son, little Son, climb up to my breast,
And fie amid its warmth at rest.”
But shut those stranger eyes from me,
My Rose, my Sorrow, my Peace divine,
And call me ‘mother’ and not ‘Mary,’
Although thou art not mine.
| · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · |
It is I would climb to thy little breast.
O, hold me there and let me rest!
It is I am weak and weary and small,
And thy soft arms can carry me.
So put them under me, God, my All,
And let me quiet be.”
Good Christian men, rejoice
With heart and soul and voice;
Now ye need not fear the grave:
Peace! Peace!
Jesus Christ. was born to save.
Calls you one and calls you all
To gain his everlasting hall:
Christ was born to save.”
Praise to Jesus, Holy Child,
Gentle infant meek and mild;
Who can fill all hearts with peace,
Who can make all sorrows cease.
Hail the messenger of love
Sent to man from God above.”
- ↑ From Ode to Girlhood and Other Poems, copyright 1899, by Harper and Brothers.
