 | Irish Poems |  |
13
EPIPHANY
To Rudolph Mary John O'Riordan
The Kings have brought Him ambergris,
The Babe, whose one delight it is
To creep and nest
In the warm snows of Mother's breast.
The Babe, whose one delight it is
To creep and nest
In the warm snows of Mother's breast.
The Kings have brought Him frankincense,
Who hath no need, this Innocence,
Of aught beside
His Mother's milk in a full tide.
Who hath no need, this Innocence,
Of aught beside
His Mother's milk in a full tide.
O'er Mother's breast His fingers go,
Constraining that sweet stream to flow,
So soft and small,
To whom that milky world is all.
Constraining that sweet stream to flow,
So soft and small,
To whom that milky world is all.
The Kings have brought Him gold and myrrh,
This new-born thing whose Heaven's in her;
To make His bed
In the sweet place from which He fed.
This new-born thing whose Heaven's in her;
To make His bed
In the sweet place from which He fed.
14
Myrrh, spikenard, such precious things,
The Kings have brought the King of Kings,
Who, dronken-deep,
Falls like a full-fed lamb asleep.
The Kings have brought the King of Kings,
Who, dronken-deep,
Falls like a full-fed lamb asleep.
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