He knelt him down upon his knee
Their lonely bed beside,
And then he saw the little babe
That weak in hunger cried.
He raised it up in his two hands.
And held it close and warm,
“O Christ,” he said, “your mercy give
To keep this child from harm.
“Oh, pitiful indeed is this
Poor little one alone,
Whose dead lie peaceful in their sleep
While he doth make his moan.
“O Mary, who in Bethlehem
Held once upon thy breast
A tender babe, look down on this
Who is so sore oppressed.
“I have no food for this poor child.
Who must with hunger die.
Thy mercy give,” the good priest prayed
With many a piteous sigh.
He looked across the waters deep,
And to the hills so brown.
And lo ! a shy wood creature there
All timidly came down.
And thrice it sprang towards the west.
And thrice towards the east.
It was as though some hand unseen
Drove forth the gentle beast.
But when the little child it heard,
That still with hunger cried.
It sprang before the guiding hand,
And stood the babe Inside.
Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/106
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THE DEER-STONE
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