“Great stir among the shepherd folk; To Bethlehem they go, To worship there a God whose head On straw is laid full low;
Upon the lovely newborn Child Their gifts will they bestow. “But I, who am as poor as Job — A widowed mother I,
Who for my little son's sweet sake For alms to all apply — Ah, what have I that I can take The Child of Love most high?
“Thy cradle and thy pillow, too, My little lamb forlorn, Thou sorely needest them — no, no, I cannot leave thee shorn!
I cannot take them to the God That in the straw was born.” Oh, miracle! The nursing babe — The babe e'en as he fed —
Smiled in his tender mother's face, And, “Go, go quick!” he said; “To Jesus, to my Saviour, take My kisses and my bed.”
The mother, all thrilled through and through, To heaven her hands did raise; She gave the babe her breast, then took The cradle — went her ways,...
And now, at Bethlehem arrived, To Mary Mother says: “O Mary, Pearl of Paradise, That heaven on earth hath shed,
O Virgin Mother, hear the word My little babe hath said: To Jesus, to my Saviour, take My kisses and my bed.
“Here, Mary, here the cradle is; Thy need is more than mine; Receive, and in it lay thy Son, Messiah all-divine!
And let me kiss, upon my knees, That darling Babe of thine!” The blessed Virgin, then, at once, Right glad of heart, bent low,
And in the cradle laid her Child, And kissed him, doing so. Then with his foot St. Joseph rocked The cradle to and fro.
“Now, thanks to thee, good woman, thanks, For this that thou hast done.” Thus say they both, with friendly looks. “Of thanks I merit none;
Yet, holy Mother, pity me, For sake of thy dear Son.” Since then a happy soul was hers; God's blessing on her fell;
One of the Twelve her child became, That with our Lord did dwell. Thus was this story told to me, Which I afar would tell.
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