"The holy Christ," he said, "am I,
A child the same as thee;
If all forget and pass thee by,
Thou'rt not forgot by me.
And I myself for thee will raise
A tree so full of light,
That those in yonder halls which blaze
Shall seem to fade from sight.
While yet he speaks, from earth to sky
A golden tree had sprung,
With stars in clust'ring radiancy
Amid its branches hung.
How near and yet how far it seem'd,
How bath'd in floods of light;
The child stood near and thought he dream'd,
It look'd so wondrous bright.
He thought he dream'd, while from above
The angels o'er him smil'd,
And gently stretched their arms in love
Towards the stranger child.
They lift, they bear him from the ground,
Up through the shining space;
And now the outcast one has found
With Christ his resting-place.
23. The Landing of St. Augustine in Britain.
The heathen monarch sits enthron'd
In all his pomp and pride,
With twice ten thousand men at arms
Assembled at his side.
