May Probyn (1856–1909)

LACKING samite and sable,

Lacking silver and gold,

The Prince Jesus in the poor stable

Slept, and was three hours old.

As doves by the fair water,

Mary, not touch’d of sin,

Sat by Him,—the King’s daughter,

All glorious within.

A lily without one stain, a

Star where no spot hath room.

Ave, gratia plena—

Virgo Virginum!

Clad not in pearl-sewn vesture,

Clad not in cramoisie,

She hath hush’d, she hath cradled to rest, her

God the first time on her knee.

Where is one to adore Him?

The ox hath dumbly confess’d,

With the ass, meek kneeling before Him,

Et homo factus est.

Not throned on ivory or cedar,

Not crown’d with a Queen’s crown,

At her breast it is Mary shall feed her

Maker, from Heaven come down.

The trees in Paradise blossom

Sudden, and its bells chime—

She giveth Him, held to her bosom,

Her immaculate milk the first time.

The night with wings of angels

Was alight, and its snow-pack’d ways

Sweet made (say the Evangels)

With the noise of their virelays.

Quem vidistis, pastores?

Why go ye feet unshod?

Wot ye within yon door is

Mary, the Mother of God?

No smoke of spice is ascending

There—no roses are piled—

But, choicer than all balms blending

There Mary hath kiss’d her child.

Dilectus meus mihi

Et ego Illi—cold

Small cheek against her cheek, He

Sleepeth, three hours old.