V—Her Nativity
Lo! on this day is a little one born who shall grow
Fair to the highest of womanhood, purer than snow.
Sun-fair, and clear as the moon, and as dread as the host
Of a conquering army whose banners have God for their boast.
Into the wilderness barren this Lady shall bring
Scent that is sweeter than summer, and fresher than spring.
Is she the hope of the faithful, the rose of the morn?
Yea, and of her is the Day-star, the Light shall be born.
Blessed is she in her coming, the harbinger sweet
Of One who shall walk with the pierced and conquering feet.
Here in the swaddlings of babehood all helpless she lies;
She who shall bear the Creator of earth and of skies.
Little babe-breast that shall pillow its Maker and feed:
Little babe-hands that shall minister true to His need:
Little babe-heart for the sword in its piercing one day:
Little babe-feet that shall walk on the sorrowful way.
Joy in her, earth, who is fairer and greater than Eve;
Teaching to joy as the other had taught us to grieve.
Mother of all in the One who shall conquer for all;
Bearing the healing of nations, the rise from the fall.
Over this baby the power of the Highest shall come.
Light of the world, Thou shalt spring from the gates of her womb.
Purest of paths, by the feet of the King to be trod!
Hail to thee, Virgin of virgins, thou Mother of God!
