<h3 id="The_Child">The Child</h3>
<p>I MAY not lift him in my arms. His face I may not see—<br/>
Are angel hands more tender than a mother’s hands may be?<br/>
And does he smile to hear the song an angel stole from me?</p>
<p>The wise King said, “He cannot come but I will go to him!”<br/>
O David! did you seek with words to make the grave less grim?<br/>
And did you think to cheat, with words, the jealous seraphim?</p>
<p>So! he will learn of heaven—he, who scarcely knew the earth.<br/>
All fullness waits the baby eyes that never looked on dearth—<br/>
The mystery of death usurps the mystery of birth!</p>
<p>What light has earth to give me for the light that heaven beguiled?<br/>
What is the calm of heaven to him who has not known the wild?—<br/>
O, we are both bereft, bereft—the mother and the child!</p>
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