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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.)
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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 on Mary's knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at Him,
And all the stars looked down.
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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 on Mary's
knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at Him,
And all the stars looked down.
G.K. Chesterton
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